


Bet

by Homeskillet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Game Night, Happy Ending, I don't want to spoil the ending but it's a, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Light Angst, M/M, Mischief, Past Tension, Teacher AU, Teacher!Dean, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, WIP, fake not dating, just a little sprinkled in, look...they're switches ok?, lying, teacher!Cas, they have a healthy sex life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homeskillet/pseuds/Homeskillet
Summary: After getting employed as teachers by the same high school, Dean and Cas find themselves hiding their relationship in fear of unemployment. A few weeks pass, and they catch wind of an underground betting pool being run by one of their coworkers...the bet being whether or not the already-dating couple gets together. Deciding to have a bit of fun of their own, the boys hatch a plan. How long will their charade last? And how will it all come to an end? Place your bets now...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 33
Kudos: 85





	1. The Usual Suspects

“Hey, babe, guess what!” Dean started excitedly as he entered their shared apartment. He kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket. As he walked into the living room where his boyfriend was sitting, he answered his own question, “I got the job at Middlefield High School!”

Castiel turned around to face his boyfriend as a wide smile broke out across his face. He stood up from the couch and wrapped Dean in a hug. As they pulled away, Castiel said, “Me too.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, each taking in what that meant for them. As it clicked into place, Dean snapped out of his shock and picked Cas up off the ground in a spinning hug. 

“That’s amazing!” Dean congratulated. Castiel chuckled and kissed his boyfriend as he was spun about the air. 

“So uh,” Cas started as Dean set him down, “are we...obligated to tell them about us? I’m not exactly looking for a repeat of St. Agnes.” 

Dean seemed to ponder this. Castiel had landed a student teaching position at St. Agnes right out of college, and it was strongly indicated that he would be offered a job if the year went well. That is, until he brought Dean to the staff Christmas party. The couple ended up leaving early, having been driven off by the uncomfortable stares after they shared a kiss underneath the mistletoe. He received a dismissal letter before the new year. Castiel had made his peace with it; he didn’t want to dedicate his time to a school that didn’t appreciate him for who he was. Still...he wasn’t eager to repeat that experience, and he really needed to start paying off his student loans. 

Neither of them were familiar with Middlefield’s “code of conduct” regarding personal relationships. They also didn’t want to jeopardize either of their jobs. It had taken many applications, interviews, and rejection emails for them to get here. 

“I don’t know,” Dean replied. 

“Maybe we can keep it between us...scope it out for a little while before doing anything? If the administration is homophic at Middlefield, we can at least have some fun with it before we get kicked out,” Castiel suggested. Dean smiled, a little melancholy. Cas’ joke was funny, but it still stung that they even had to think about contingency plans should Middlefield fire them. Just because they fell in love and happen to have the same genitalia? Dean thought society had progressed past that mentality. 

“But before we think about that…” Castiel said, changing the subject by letting his hand wander down Dean’s back and grab hold of his ass. Dean smirked and kissed his boyfriend, reaching for the hand that was assaulting him. 

“I like the way you think,” Dean said, attaching his lips to Cas’ neck. Castiel laughed and pushed Dean off of him before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the bedroom. 

As they lay in the aftermath of their celebration, Castiel traced shapes into Dean’s chest. 

“So, what subject did you get?” Cas asked. 

“Physics,” Dean said with a smile. Castiel’s jaw dropped. That was Dean’s first choice! 

“No way? That’s awesome!”

“How about you?” Dean asked in return. 

Castiel shrugged and replied, “English.”

“Hey, that’s good. Your second choice, right?”

“Yeah,” Cas replied, somewhat dispirited. 

“Hey,” Dean said, cupping Castiel’s cheek, “I know it’s not history...but you love English!” Dean reminded his boyfriend. Castiel couldn’t help but smile when Dean looked at him like that. 

“You’re right. I should be happy I even have a job at all. 24 and unemployed was bad enough, I wasn’t shooting for 25. These past few months have been...awful,” he admitted with a laugh. 

“Well now we have something extra to celebrate when you hit 25,” Dean smirked. Castiel rolled his eyes fondly and told his boyfriend to go to sleep.

\-- --- -. -.. .- -.-- 

The week before Middlefield opened its doors to the students, the teachers attended their orientation. Castiel (after a rather _exciting_ night for the freshly-25-year-old) got out of bed at five in the morning so he could get a jog in before school. Dean groaned when the alarm went off, rolled over, and immediately fell back asleep. Castiel chuckled to himself as he got out of bed and changed into his running clothes. When Castiel toured the school, he was shown a rather well-equipped gym. At his excited questions about the treadmills, the tour guide informed Castiel that teachers had a fob that allowed them to use the gym whenever they wanted. 

The couple decided to drive separately to work, Dean not willing to wake up before the sun. Castiel wasn’t surprised; Dean had never been much of a morning person. He had almost slept through his praxis in college. 

“Oh, hello,” a british voice rang out. Lost in thought, Castiel had failed to notice somebody slipping in. He looked up from where he was fumbling with his phone to set up music. “You’re a new face,” the man observed. Castiel smiled.

“Yeah, I just got hired this year,” he explained. The man nodded and stuck out his hand. 

“I’m Balthazar Roché,” he said. 

“Castiel Novak,” he replied, shaking the man’s hand. 

“What subject are you teaching?” Balthazar asked as they both got up on a treadmill. 

“Uh, English,” Castiel replied. 

“Ahh, a fellow linguist. I teach French,” Balthazar supplied. “We might run into each other in the language wing.” After a brief, slightly awkward pause, Balthazar said, “well, I’ll let you get to your run.”

Castiel nodded politely and put his headphones in. 

As it turned out, the showers in the locker room ended up being better than the one in their apartment. Castiel had been wanting to move into a real house since the first day he moved into that one-bedroom with Dean, but he just didn’t have the finances. Maybe after a while saving up with this job, he could talk to Dean about moving into something a bit more...habitable. 

\-- -. - .-. --- -.. ..- -.-. - .. --- -. ... 

Dean pulled into the parking lot and took a deep breath. Meeting new people had never particularly caused Dean to be anxious, but something about walking into this new job seemed to weigh heavily on him. This could be the first day of the rest of his life. He spotted Cas’ prius parked by the gym doors and smiled. He shook his head at the car; he’d been trying to convince Cas to get something else since the moment he laid eyes on the monstrosity ( _“I don’t care what it looks like, it gets amazing gas mileage” “But, Baby...it's lime green”_ ). 

He stepped out of his own prized ‘67 Chevy Impala and closed the door behind him. He breathed in the warm August air and headed towards the doors. Deciding that he needed a little help fully waking up, he ventured into the teacher’s lounge to see if he could pour himself a cup of coffee. 

“Is that the death-star blueprints on your tie?” a woman asked, pulling down a mug from the cupboard.

Dean looked down at the clothing and smiled. He walked up to the cupboard and pulled down a mug for himself. 

“Yeah,” he answered with a laugh. 

“That’s amazing,” she replied, pouring herself a cup once Dean was finished. 

“Dean,” he greeted, sticking out his hand, “Winchester.” 

The woman took his hand and replied, “Bradbury…. _Charlie_ Bradbury.” 

“Did you just _James Bond_ yourself?” Dean asked. 

“I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife,” she replied cheekily. Dean shook his head at the bad Timothy Dalton impression. 

“So what subject are you teaching, Dean?” she asked, taking a seat at one of the circular tables in the room. 

“Physics,” he replied, “you?”

“Computer science.”

“How long have you been teaching here?” Dean asked, hoping to get some insight into how the administration handled everything. 

“They hired me right out of college...gosh, I’m getting old. This is year eight for me,” she replied. 

“You stuck around this long? Must mean the kids aren’t too bad,” he commented, hoping if she had any complaints, she’d voice them now. 

“Well...whatever doesn’t kill you, simply makes you stronger.”

“Are you just going to keep quoting movies or….” Dean teased, finding it easy to talk to Charlie. She laughed and rolled her eyes. Dean checked his watch and glanced around the empty room.

“I suppose we should head to the gym?” Charlie checked her own phone for the time and nodded. She stood up, drained the rest of her coffee, and placed her mug in the sink. 

“Follow me, I’ll make sure we have the best seats in the house.” 

The pair walked to the gymnasium, grabbing their name tags and an information packet as they entered the room. 

.- … … . -- -... .-.. -.-- 

From his seat next to Balthazar on the bleachers, Castiel spotted Dean walking in with a redheaded woman. She looked around briefly before zoning in on something...or as it appeared some _one_. She climbed the bleachers to the top, Dean in tow, to sit next to who Castiel assumed to be a friend by the way they greeted each other. 

Cas made sure he didn’t linger too long on his boyfriend, instead zoning back into what his colleague was saying. 

“...so I would definitely avoid that,” the French teacher said. Castiel, having missed the first half of the sentence, just nodded in agreement. Luckily, he didn’t have to comment because the principal took the mic and got things started. 

“Hello, everyone. My name is Chuck Shurley, and as the principal of Middlefield High, I would like to welcome back our amazing returning faculty and staff, as well as extend a warm welcome to our new faces joining us this year,” the man said, taking a moment for applause. After that, he launched into a slideshow about _togetherness_ and _the importance of education_ , including a slightly-uncomfortable video about a man dancing with groups of people from all over the world. Once that was done, they launched into human resources details such as time off, benefits, and holidays. 

The rest of orientation went by smoothly as the returning teachers followed their familiar routine of a new school year while the new teachers learned the layout of the school as well as the schedule. As far as Castiel could tell, this year would go just fine. 

He hummed to himself as he arranged and decorated his room. 

“Not even a single cut-out of Shakespeare?” a british voice asked from the doorway. Castiel immediately stopped humming and whipped his head towards the door. 

“What?” he asked, processing what his coworker had just said. 

“Ms. Rosen, the teacher who had this room before you, was obsessed with Shakespeare. Had at least three life-size cut-outs of the man in here,” Balthazar revealed, entering the room further to admire the work of his new colleague. 

“Wow,” Castiel replied, not entirely sure how to respond to this information. 

“Yeah, too bad she left, I got a kick overhearing the custodians gripe about the frights it gave them when they cleaned at night.” 

Castiel chuckled at the thought of being scared by a cut-out of William Shakespeare, but the thought was quickly clouded with a burning question: _why did Ms. Rosen leave?_

“I’m sorry to not carry on this tradition. No life-size cut-outs for me,” Castiel said. 

“Ah, don’t sweat it. I’m sure the rumors of her departure will fill the conversation mill for a while, even without the cut-outs.” 

Castiel tilted his head at that, prompting Balthazar to continue talking. 

“Well, Jo said she saw Ms. Rosen in Principal Shurley’s office _after hours_ more than once,” Balthazar gossiped. Castiel raised both eyebrows as he digested the new information. 

He turned from the French teacher to staple a poster to the wall as his colleague went on about his own opinions regarding what might have happened. Meanwhile, Cas was trying not to be completely consumed by the thoughts raging inside his head. After hours? Was Balthazar implying that Ms. Rosen had a relationship with the principal? Were relationships amongst staff members prohibited? If Ms. Rosen was kicked out for being in a straight relationship, would Cas and Dean’s be met with harsher consequences? 

Castiel almost dropped the stapler when Balthazar spoke up again. 

“Castiel?”

“What? I’m sorry,” the English teacher apologized, setting the stapler down on his desk. 

“I just asked how you liked it here so far.” 

“Oh, yeah it’s...nice. The building is certainly intriguing, I’m a bit of a history buff, actually, so I’ll be excited to learn more about Middlefield’s history,” Castiel said, relaxing a bit as he thought about what secrets this building might have. 

“Ah, yes. If these walls could talk…” Balthazar quipped. “Well, in any case, I do like the way you’ve decorated,” Balthazar said, turning to leave.

“Thanks,” Castiel replied, “see you around.” 

-... .- -.-. -.- - --- … -.-. …. --- --- .-.. 

The first week of school went by smoothly; the kids were a bit antsy as they adjusted back into the routine of school after the summer off, but none of them caused any problems in class. 

Much to their dismay, Dean and Cas had different lunch periods, so they didn’t get to see much of each other during the day. Castiel had the pleasure of meeting Charlie in the breakroom on Monday. She’d asked him if he met “the new hunk that teaches physics” ( _“If I played for that team…” she trailed off, obviously caught up in her own daydream_ ). Castiel laughed it off without incident. He told her that he had gone to the same college as Dean (as the couple had agreed upon as a backstory), but that he didn’t really talk to the guy on campus. She nodded in understanding. 

As their conversation went on, she started to complain that he didn’t laugh at any of her jokes. She would say something and look at him expectantly, but he would just shake his head ( _“I don’t understand that reference”_ ). 

Along with the redhead, Cas had lunch with Balthazar, Missouri Moseley, the front office lady, and Gabriel Kokopelli, the biology teacher. Missouri was...very blunt. It seemed like she knew everything that went on in this school, down to the goings-on in the top-secret administration meetings. Charlie complained that she had to limit the amount of staff betting pools Missouri was allowed in. She always seemed to take the pot. Gabriel was...something. He seemed quite popular among the staff and students, if not a little prone to mischief. Plus, he was always whistling...and Castiel had always been skeptical of whistlers. He could already tell he’d have to keep an eye on Gabriel. 

Dean, on the other hand, had lunch with Lisa Braeden, a pretty brunette who taught art; Jo Harvelle, a spirited blonde that taught 9th and 10th grade math; Jody Mills, an older woman teaching health; and Garth Fitzgerald, a string bean with legs who was the school’s guidance counselor. 

Jo actually had a classroom on Dean’s side of the building, so when they ran into each other on the way to lunch, they decided to walk together to the teacher’s lounge. He blushed when she flirted with him, and tried not to flirt back too much. He wanted to be friendly with everyone, but he still wasn’t sure how much he could say about his personal life. 

Dean got the conversation back into safer territory when he mentioned Charlie. Apparently, Jo was good friends with her. Dean didn’t know if that was going to be a good thing or a bad thing for him in the future. 

On Friday morning, Dean rushed into the teacher’s lounge and smacked right into Castiel, knocking all of Cas’ papers to the floor. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry, b...uddy,” he said, noticing Balthazar standing behind Cas before stooping down to collect the fallen papers. 

“No problem. What’s the rush?” Castiel asked, glossing over Dean’s almost-petname. 

“Slept through my alarm,” he explained. 

Castiel shook his head. This man.

Dean straightened up and handed Cas his papers with a shy smile. Castiel returned the smile and resumed making his way to his classroom. He made eye contact with Charlie, who had a devilish look on her face. He hadn’t known her for long, but he knew that that look meant trouble. 

That day, at lunch, Cas and Balthazar were sitting at the table making small talk. The pair had grown closer that week, chatting every morning as they got their workout in. Charlie entered the room and took a seat next to Castiel. 

“So,” she prompted, “what was _that_ this morning?” 

“What was what?” Castiel asked before taking a bite of his leftover lasagna from last night. 

“You know...the _thing_...with _Mr. Winchester_ ,” she supplied, waggling her eyebrows. He rolled his eyes and took another bite. Cas finished chewing before he gave her a reply.

“He seemed to be in a rush this morning,” Castiel explained nonchalantly. Charlie scoffed. 

“Oh come _on!_ I was standing ten feet away and I could feel the tension.” 

“Leave the poor boy alone, Charlie,” Balthazar intervened. She rolled her eyes, but dropped it for the time being. Castiel was thankful for his friend’s intervention. 

Maybe the both of them working at Middlefield High was a mistake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there's chapter 1! Thanks for reading the project that kept me sane during the first few months of quarantine. Kudos and comments are always appreciated (also...yes that is morse code as scene breaks, and yes they do all spell out something) 
> 
> Updates should come weekly! 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @satansass666 :)


	2. Hickeys (And Other Forms of...Rebellion)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50 points to anyone who recognizes the chapter title (and thanks for coming back to read another one of my fics!) 
> 
> ~~p.s. fuck you Greer, that's a funny title~~

The layout of Middlefield High was rather simple. The school itself was relatively small, the grades holding no more than 80 students each. Dean recalled a few schools he attended in his youth that had upwards of 600 per grade. He much preferred the smaller setting. 

As it were, the building itself was historical, having been built in 1892. It was two stories, about ten classrooms on each floor. Two rooms took up the interior of the building (housing the art and pottery studios on the ground floor, and the computer and biology labs on the second), while the other classrooms ran along the exterior wall. Two staircases on either side of the building allowed for the flow of traffic. There was an annex building that served as their gym, and an attached add-on that housed the cafeteria and the teachers’ lounge. 

Arts and humanities were on the ground floor, while math and sciences were upstairs. Because of the separation, Dean had become more familiar with Jo, Charlie, Gabriel, and Jody, as they all shared the second floor. Charlie had the interior classroom adjacent to Dean’s room, while Gabriel was housed in the lab on the other side. Dean was rather grateful there was at least that much distance between Gabriel and himself. He had heard stories of the man’s various “pranks”, and he just hoped the trickster didn’t stray too far from his side of the building. 

As Dean dealt with his troubles upstairs, Castiel was navigating his own set-up on the ground floor. Balthazar had been right when he said they might run into each other...their rooms were right next to one another. Much to his chagrin, the counseling office was also on the ground floor, so he ran into Garth way more than he was hoping to. It’s not that he disliked the guy, but...he was just too much for Castiel. The guy gave him a full on hug after meeting him only ten minutes prior! Castiel was a rather stoic guy, especially upon first meeting, so the last thing he was expecting was a hug on his first day.

All-in-all, the first couple months passed by smoothly. Dean could pick up hints that Charlie was up to no good regarding Cas and his relationship. It didn’t seem like she was catching on to the fact that they were _already_ a couple, no; it appeared as though she was trying to push them together. It started off with small things: Charlie had Dean deliver worksheets Cas had “accidentally” sent to the printer in her lab instead of the one in the teacher’s lounge. Dean didn’t think much of it at the time, he had a free period when she asked him. 

It was only at their apartment when they realized what she was doing. 

“Oh...my...god,” Dean said with a laugh, placing his head in his hands. Castiel laughed along with him and ran a hand up and down Dean’s back. 

“So, do we come clean?” Castiel asked. Dean took a deep breath and shook his head. 

“We’ve been there for two months, Cas, I think we’re in a little too deep,” Dean admitted. The couple laughed at the situation of their own making. “Plus, we still aren’t sure exactly what happened with the teacher you replaced,” Dean reminded him. After that day Blathazar shared the news about Ms. Rosen in Castiel’s classroom, they’d been treading very lightly on school grounds, not willing to test the waters should one or both of them find himself without a job. 

“Ok,” Castiel agreed, “So what do we do?” he asked. Dean seemed to ponder this for a while. 

“You know...I heard rumors that Charlie is starting an underground betting pool on whether or not we get together. I’m not sure if that means staff relationships are ok, but...if she’s pushing us towards each other, she’s probably betting _for_ us,” Dean said. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Castiel asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. A wry smile spread across Dean’s face. 

“That Mr. Novak guy?” Dean started as if he were shooting the shit in the teachers’ lounge, “you know, he’s kind of a dick.”

Castiel scoffed, smile still plastered to his face, “Mr. Winchester? Sure, he’s hot, but have you seen the way he eats? A complete neanderthal if you ask me,” this time, it was Dean’s turn to scoff. 

“You don’t like the way I eat?” Dean asked, changing their position on the couch so he was trapping Castiel against the seat cushions with his arms. 

“It’s sloppy,” Castiel replied honestly. Dean shook his head and leaned down to claim Cas’ lips in a rough kiss. Their first fight as a couple was over the other’s table manners. Sure, Dean often needed a napkin, even with the neatest of foods, but Castiel was such a snob. He wouldn’t even _try_ the burgers Dean made them just because they had mustard on them! Eventually, they reached an agreement, and Dean was more conscious of his mess, while Castiel made an effort to remain open to trying new things.

Castiel smiled into the kiss, running his hand under Dean’s shirt and up his back. After a few minutes of making out, Castiel became impatient and tugged Dean’s shirt off rather harshly. Dean got the hint, and removed Castiel’s shirt as well. 

He leaned down and started kissing Cas’ chest; down, down, to the button of his jeans. Dean zipped the pants open and pulled Cas out of the slit in his boxers. He pumped him a few times, making cheeky eye contact. The blue eyed man rolled his eyes, half annoyance, half ecstasy. Dean smiled as his boyfriend let out a moan, and leaned down further to lick a long stripe up the underside of Cas’ cock. When he got to the tip, he flicked his tongue over the slit a few times, relishing the breathy sounds this evoked from Cas. 

“Just fucking do it aleady,” Cas complained, getting a hand on Dean’s head and not-so-gracefully shoving it down. Dean had half a mind to start avoiding his dick altogether and instead slip his jeans down further and pay extra special attention to the sensitive skin on the inside of Cas’ thighs. But alas, Dean himself didn’t have the patience for that. Not tonight.

Dean enveloped the tip inside the wet heat of his mouth, bobbing up and down, adding an inch every so often. The sounds coming from Castiel were delicious as he encouraged Dean to take him deeper. Dean did just that, relaxing his throat with practiced ease. He moaned when the tip of Cas’ dick hit the back of his throat. 

“Oh, fuuuck,” Cas groaned out, “you’re fucking perfect, Dean.” 

Gleaming under the praise, Dean popped off, knowing what Castiel really wanted from him. He slipped off the couch and sat on his knees, inviting Castiel with a look. His boyfriend smiled, placing a hard kiss to Dean’s already swollen lips before getting up from the couch. 

“I fucking love you,” Castiel declared as he grabbed Dean’s head and slid himself ever so sowly between Dean’s open lips. He let Dean start at his own pace, but quickly took over, holding Dean’s head still as he fucked into his mouth. Dean took it happily, spit collecting and dripping down his chin. It didn’t take long for Cas to come, shooting his load down Dean’s throat with a groan. He pulled out and Dean wiped the spit off his chin. 

Castiel kept his hand on Dean’s head, now gently petting the short hair. They made eye contact, Dean’s watery eyes meeting Castiel’s, full of love and adoration. 

“You’re perfect,” Castiel repeated. Dean stood up and kissed his boyfriend. “Now let’s take care of you,” Cas said, leading them towards the bedroom. After opening Dean up ( _“Please, Cas, I don’t care, just give it to me” “I’m not going to hurt you and get yelled at later for it just because you’re horny now”_ ), Castiel fucked into Dean ruthlessly, a bruising grip on his boyfriend’s hips. Dean moaned out strings of praises, most of them incoherent, but Castiel didn’t mind. 

Dean came with a shout, Castiel following with his second orgasm of the night not long after. Once they had cleaned up, Castiel’s head found its favorite spot on Dean’s shoulder. 

“So this whole ‘enemies’ thing…” Dean started with a laugh. Castiel chuckled. 

“I’m sure we can manage.” 

… -. --- -... 

“I mean, I guess he’s a little uptight, but is he really _that_ bad?” Charlie asked, having wandered into Dean’s classroom during their shared free period. Dean shrugged and continued grading the quizzes from his last period. 

“Maybe you just have to get to know him,” she suggested hopefully. Dean repressed a smile, having had that exact same thought when he’d met him in their intro ‘teaching methods’ class. 

“What’s the use?” Dean asked, “I mean, his classroom is on the opposite side of the school, I think that might have been a sign.” Charlie barely held back a pout. 

“I think you’re being too hard on him,” Charlie observed. Dean had to bite his tongue at the innuendo Charlie wasn't aware she made. He looked up from his papers, holding eye contact with his coworker as he thought of what to say. 

“Why do you care if I get along with Mr. Novak?” 

Charlie opened and closed her mouth, hesitating as she thought of how to respond. Then, with the most sincere tone Dean had heard her use since he met her, she responded, “It’s a small school...I just think it would be easier if we all got along, ya know?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

… .-.. --- -... 

“He’d need a napkin to eat a starburst,” Castiel lamented as he tucked into his own sandwich he had brought from home. 

“But he’s so charming! What’s a little innocent messiness?” Charlie retorted. Castiel shrugged and continued eating. 

“What about yesterday?” Charlie asked.

“What about it?”

“When Jody brought in those donuts,” she prompted, “you both reached for the last plain glazed and he totally let you have it!” 

“And that’s supposed to mean... _what_ exactly?” Castiel asked. He was rather enjoying this little game they were playing. Charlie rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. 

“Men,” she lamented, gathering up her trash to throw it away. 

.--. . .-. ..-. . -.-. - -- .- - -.-. …. 

“I swear, these two are blind,” Charlie complained to Gabriel one morning before school started. He laughed and pulled the sucker out of his mouth with a pop. 

“Your match-making not working out the way you wanted it to?” Gabriel teased. 

“They’re perfect for each other!” she insisted, “they just need to realize it.” 

“Are you even sure they play for the same team?” Gabriel asked. Charlie gave him a _look_. 

“Please.”

Gabriel raised his hands in surrender and sighed. 

“I’m not as sure as you are,” he replied, “that’s why I put my money _against_.” 

“You’re so rude,” she complained, “never let me have any fun.” 

“Hey, mischief is _my_ game,” he said, “I have plenty of fun for the both of us.” 

“You’re lucky we’re friends, or I would’ve hacked your private accounts without mercy,” she threatened, even pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

“Now, there’s no need to throw around the ‘H’ word, Chuckles,” he pacified. He didn’t want her hacking him. For _both_ of their sakes. “I’m just saying...I’m not seeing what you’re seeing.”

“Ah, I thought I might find the two of you up here,” a british voice rang out. Gabriel greeted their coworker while Charlie rolled her eyes. 

“Unless you’re coming up here to bet on _for_ , I’d suggest you go back down to your cave,” Charlie warned. Balthazar chuckled as he sauntered up to the pair. 

“You know I don’t participate in your betting ring when it comes to relationships. And even if I did, why on _earth_ would I do that when I think those sparkling blue eyes would look much better with _my_ bedsheets behind them?” Balthazar quipped. Charlie crossed her arms while Gabriel laughed. 

“And how do you expect me to bet against this debonair casanova?” Gabriel asked. Balthazar chuckled and threw his arm around the shorter man. The redhead had just about had it with these two, and it wasn’t even eight in the morning. 

-.-. .-.. --- … . -.-. .- .-.. .-.. 

One day after school, Castiel stopped by Dean’s room to ask him what he needed from the store, and if they wanted to plan out a few dinners in advance. 

“Anything but green peppers,” Dean replied.

Castiel chuckled. He was very familiar with his boyfriend’s aversion to those verdant vegetables. One night, he had ordered a dish with them unwittingly, and they had to cut their date short so Dean could “deal with this in the peace and comfort of his own home”. 

“Of course, I would never,” Castiel vowed as he circled Dean’s desk and hitched one leg up so he could half-sit on it. 

“We could do burgers this week,” Dean suggested, “no mustard, of course.” Castiel smiled.

“Of course,” he agreed. Dean raised a hand and put it on Cas’ leg as he thought of what else he might need from the store. 

Castiel sat patiently, waiting for Dean to think of anything else. He relished the touch, a thrill of excitement that they were doing something _forbidden_ racing up his spine. Just then, he heard the distinct sound of whistling coming from the hallway outside Dean’s room. He jumped off of Dean’s desk and pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

“And I’d appreciate it if you kept my name out of your lectures!” he said sternly. Dean was confused for only a moment before he looked over and saw Gabriel enter his room. Dean set his jaw and stood up out of his chair. 

“What, you can’t handle one little joke?” he challenged. Gabriel, in fear that one of his coworkers was going to punch the other, stepped in. 

“Woah there, boys. What’s the fuss?” Castiel broke eye contact with his fake-enemy and looked towards Gabriel. 

He huffed and turned on his heel, grabbing his bag on his way out of the classroom. He didn’t say anything to Gabriel, and hoped his boyfriend could tie it up without revealing their trick. 

“Friggin’ humanities teachers,” Dean said conspiratorially to the biology teacher. Gabriel cracked a smile and nodded. 

“Tell me about it. I played _one_ harmless prank on Lisa last year, and now she won’t even talk to me,” Gabriel said. Dean laughed at his coworker’s admission. 

“Oh yeah? What was the prank?” Dean asked, half to switch the conversation away from him and Cas, and half because he was genuinely interested in what Gabriel did to Lisa. 

“Well, you know how there’s a pottery kiln? Well, I may have caused a very _minor_ explosion,” he admitted. Dean’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as he huffed a laugh. 

Gabriel told him the full story, and by the end of it, it seemed the prankster had forgotten all about Dean and Cas’ tiff. The physics teacher was just glad he didn’t have to come up with a backstory, Cas was much better at inventing those. 

…. .- .-.. .-.. --- .-- . . -. 

The next incident occurred a couple weeks later. Cas and Dean were somewhat successful in fending off Charlie’s attempts to get them ‘together’, and they’d built up a bit of a reputation as begrudging coworkers. However, there was a new rumor floating around the teacher’s lounge about the “sexual tension”. They may have gotten a little carried away with the fake-enemies plot when Halloween rolled around and the staff and students were encouraged to show up in costume. 

Having to keep it G-rated for the sake of the students, Dean dressed up in a medieval get-up while Castiel decided to tease Dean by going as a cowboy. They had _not_ discussed this beforehand, so Dean didn’t even get the chance to prepare himself. He couldn’t help it if he had preferences, dammit! 

So, yeah, maybe Charlie did catch him leaving lingering looks towards Cas, but...could you blame him? 

That night, Dean got Cas back, though. 

“Panties?” Castiel asked from his spot on the bed as Dean stripped for him. Dean looked at his boyfriend with a devilish smile. 

“I’ve been wearing them allllll day,” he practically purred, “feel so nice against my sensitive skin.” He palmed at his own cock, which was starting to peek out the top of the fabric. Castiel bit his bottom lip and let his own hand wander to his rapidly hardening dick. The older man knew showing up in a cowboy outfit was unfair to Dean, but he relished the looks his boyfriend threw his way. It was nice to be looked at like that every once in a while. 

“And I have another surprise,” Dean said, crawling up the foot of the bed and nibbling at Cas’ neck. 

“What’s that?” Cas asked huskily, hands wandering down to grab his boyfriend’s silk-clad ass. In favor of answering his question, Dean bit at Cas’ neck, getting lost in the sensation. Soon enough, Cas’ hands found their way under the silk. It didn’t take long for him to notice the plug in his boyfriend’s ass. 

Castiel growled and flipped them over, covering Dean’s body with his own. 

“How long have you had that in?” 

“Mmmm, since right before dinner,” Dean moaned. Castiel claimed his lips roughly and pushed the panties to the side. He teased Dean with the plug, pulling it out ever so slowly before pushing it swiftly right back in. He wasn’t going to let Dean get away with this that easily. 

“You told me you were working on lesson plans,” Castiel said between kisses. Dean started a laugh, but it turned into a moan when Castiel thrusted the plug back into his ass. 

“I didn’t say who they were for,” Dean replied cheekily. Cas sat back on his knees, putting some much needed space between himself and his lover. 

“Are you implying that you’re teaching me a lesson?”

Dean raised an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder before replying, “maybe you shouldn’t break the rules by showing up in an undiscussed costume.” Castiel smirked at his own mischief. 

“You loved that costume,” Castiel pointed out, sinking down and nuzzling at the inside of Dean’s thighs. 

“Yeah, and Charlie caught me undressing you in my head about a dozen times,” Dean complained, hand finding purchase in Castiel’s unruly dark hair. 

“It’s not _my_ fault you can’t act professionally around me.” 

“It most certainly isn’t _my_ fault that my stupid fucking sexy boyfriend decided to dress up in something he _knows_ pushes my buttons,” Dean defended breathily as Castiel continued to tease him with his plug. 

“I guess we’re both at fault,” Castiel admitted. Dean rolled his eyes before rolling his hips. 

“Can we please get on with it?” Dean begged. Castiel smirked and pulled the plug out completely. Not bothering to take the panties off, he kept them pushed to the side as he slipped into his boyfriend. They both moaned at the sensation, Castiel pushing all the way in before slowly gyrating his hips, grinding into Dean. 

Before long, Castiel was pumping in and out at a brutal pace, Dean’s cock catching on the silk every so often, lighting his nerves on fire. In an unexpected turn of events, Castiel came first, shouting obscenities as he unloaded into Dean. The younger man didn’t last much longer after that, coming hard enough for some to catch his chin. He feared for the integrity of his panties after this. 

Castiel slipped out after a moment and went to get a washcloth to clean them up. 

“Can you fill the sink with lukewarm water and set the panties in there to soak? I don’t want them getting stained,” Dean asked from the bed. 

“Of course, dear,” Castiel replied over his shoulder, shaking his head as he completed the task. He cleaned Dean and himself up, and dutifully put the panties in the sink. He climbed back into bed, where immediately Dean latched onto his neck. Castiel chuckled, but let Dean continue, figuring he did sort of deserve it with this little costume trick. 

Once Dean was satisfied, they turned the lights off and went to sleep. 

…. .. -.-. -.- . -.-- 

“What the bloody hell is _that_ ,” Balthazar asked upon seeing Cas in the gym the next morning. Castiel’s eyebrows scrunched together as he looked down at his shirt, expecting a stain or something, but finding nothing. 

“Is that a _hickey_ , Mr. Novak?” the brit asked. Cas’ hand lifted to cover where he knew Dean had left a mark last night. He cursed his boyfriend as he thought of an excuse to get out of this. He didn’t need to, as Balthazar pressed on.

“I’m glad someone around here is getting some action. Small towns are not for the bachelor,” he lamented. “So who’s the lucky lover, and where did you meet them, because I’m getting desperate.” 

“Um,” Castiel faltered, covering it up with a chuckle as he slipped into his suave persona, “I don’t kiss and tell.” 

Balthazar scoffed, “Oh, please. We might be in a high school, but we don’t have to act like high schoolers,” he prodded further. 

Castiel just shook his head as he put his headphones in and started his jog. 

Later that day at lunch, Jo strutted into the teacher’s lounge with some “hot goss”. Dean rolled his eyes as he warmed up his lunch in the microwave. Lisa was very interested, while Jody and Garth seemed to be indifferent. Dean assumed Jo often declared she had a new secret to tell.

“I heard Mr. Novak showed up today with a hickey on his neck,” she revealed. Lisa’s jaw dropped and Dean was grateful that he had his back turned to them, because he was not expecting that. He thought the hickey was low enough that no one could see! He was responsible enough to know that they worked around children, so he wasn’t going to put his sex life on blast. 

“I didn’t notice anything,” Garth said, digging into his salad. Dean let out a silent sigh of relief. He knew he didn’t leave it high enough to peek out of his collar. 

“My source said he definitely had one,” she insisted. 

“And who’s your source?” Jody asked skeptically. 

“You want me to out my source like that? I don’t think so,” Jo retorted. 

Dean pondered this for a while. Then it dawned on him. Cas mentioned seeing a coworker in the gym before school in the mornings. Dean only made sure to keep it low enough that a pressed collar would cover it, not a t-shirt collar. Dean nodded to himself as he deduced Balthazar as Jo’s “source”. 

Dean took a seat at the table and dug into lunch, refraining from commenting on the “hot goss”. 

It appeared that nobody suspected Dean as the “mystery lover” (at least, nobody asked him outright if he was the one who put the hickey there), so he wasn’t too put off by the gossip. 

Castiel, however, was not as okay with this news circling around school. 

“I put it low enough that your work collar would cover it, it’s not my fault you go jogging at the crack of fucking dawn,” Dean reasoned over dinner. 

“And now I’m the faculty slut.”

“You are _not_ the faculty slut,” Dean assured him, “and don’t tell me you don’t love everyone thinking you have a sexy mystery lover.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“Nobody said my mystery lover was sexy,” Cas added petulantly. It was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“I didn’t hear you telling me to stop,” Dean said, a glint of actual annoyance seeping into him as he watched Castiel push his food around his plate. Dean finished the last few bites quickly and not-so-gently threw his dishes in the sink. 

“I’m taking a shower,” Dean huffed, leaving Castiel alone at the table. 

Cas sighed as he took another bite. He didn’t fully understand what was making him so upset about this situation. Dean was right, of course, when he pointed out that Castiel was enjoying the attention. He was. And Dean was also right about Cas not telling him to stop last night. 

Cas stood up from the table and scraped the remainder of his food into the trash. He filled up the sink and started washing the dishes. As he scrubbed off the stains, he thought about what was really making him upset. By the time the last dish found its way to the drying rack, Castiel had his answer. 

The older man entered their bedroom, Dean brushing his teeth in their en suite. Cas walked up behind him and looped his arms around Dean’s waist, setting his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. Dean was too busy having a mouthful of toothpaste to reply. Cas decided to go on, “I just got a little sad that people were thinking about me with someone who wasn’t you,” Cas admitted. Dean’s shoulders softened as the tension slipped out of his body. He leaned over the sink to spit out his toothpaste and quickly rinsed his mouth. He turned around and put his arms on Cas’ shoulders. 

“I’m sure at least Charlie thought it might’ve been me,” he said, hoping to raise Castiel’s spirits. The older man let out a short burst of air through his nose. _Close enough to a laugh_ Dean thought. 

“I’m sure she had a field day with this,” Castiel admitted, running his own thumb over the purple mark. Dean took his hand away from his neck and leaned in, gently placing his lips over the bruise. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, leaving feather light kisses all the way up until he reached Cas’ lips. “I’ll be more careful next time.” 

“And maybe I could sleep in every once in a while,” Castiel said, pressing his lips against Dean’s once more. “Or maybe invest in some concealer.” 


	3. Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's almost some plot in this one if you squint ;)

“Have you given up yet?” Gabriel asked as he sauntered into Charlie’s classroom before school started. 

Charlie looked up from her laptop and rolled her eyes at him. 

“I’m tired of waiting around for my money,” Gabriel complained. 

“Matters of the heart take time,” Charlie argued. 

“How much time, because I’ve got a great idea for a prank, but it’s a little on the pricey side.” 

Charlie glared at him. “Get out of my classroom,” she ordered, only half joking. Gabriel laughed and headed to the door that connected their labs. 

“Whatever you say, your highness,” he bid farewell with a dramatic bow. Just then, Jo entered the room. 

“You know, if you really wanna push em together, you could invite them to game night this weekend,” the blonde suggested. Charlie looked up from her laptop in shock. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” she grumbled, “Gabriel is getting antsy about the betting pool money.”

“Alright, so ask those two love-birds if they’re free this weekend,” Jo said, “I’d also like to see this betting pool come to fruition.” 

On the other side of the wall, Gabriel shook his head. This had to be cheating, right? The bet was whether or not they would get together, not if Charlie could set them up. He thought about what might happen if Charlie got them together for their game night this weekend. Gabriel knew the effects of alcohol intimately, and he wasn’t about to lose his money on this. He decided if Charlie could ruin the sanctity of game night just to get them together, then he needed an alliance to help keep them apart. 

He strode down to Balthazar’s classroom to fill him in on his plan. 

“I don’t know,” the brit parsed, his hands folded together as he tapped his lips with his index fingers. “You know I don’t bet on romance pools.” 

“Oh, c’mon! You know if those girls win this bet, we’re never going to hear the end of it,” Gabriel reasoned. Balthazar just shook his head. 

“I’m not seeing a good enough reason to get involved in this,” Balthazar said. Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll give you some of the money,” Gabriel offered reluctantly. Balthazar smiled and nodded his head. 

“I guess I could be swayed to help out a friend.” 

\--. .- -- . -. .. --. …. - 

“This Saturday?” Dean asked. Charlie nodded her head enthusiastically. “As in two days from now?”

“It’ll be a pretty casual game night,” she reiterated. Dean swayed his head this way and that, tugging at Charlie’s heartstrings as he made a decision. 

“I guess I could make an appearance,” he said. 

“Great! I’ll text you the details,” she told him as she practically bounced out of the room. 

Yeah, Dean could smell the trouble from ten miles away on this one. The moment she walked into his room with that look on her face, he knew he was about to get into _something_. He laughed to himself as he thought about how this could play out. 

That night, over dinner at their apartment, Castiel was the one to bring it up. 

“I’m assuming you got invited to Charlie’s game night this weekend,” he said, rather than asked. Dean nodded his head and he took a sip of his beer. 

“Yep,” he confirmed. 

“So how do we wanna play it?” Cas asked. Dean smiled. 

“Well, we can’t let her win. She’s probably going to try a bunch of little things to push us together. Ten bucks of my own says we get placed on the same team for game night,” Dean said. 

“I might as well just give you ten bucks,” Castiel retorted. Dean shifted in his seat, a plan obviously forming in his head. 

“Ok, what if we staged a fight tomorrow towards the end of the day? Make her sweat a little bit,” Dean suggested. Castiel thought about it and nodded his head slowly. 

“That could work. I’m interested to see how she’d handle the party if she thought we were in the middle of a fight,” Cas said. “So what do we want to fight about?”

“Our cars?” Dean asked. Castiel just laughed. 

“We want a fake fight, not a real one,” Cas pointed out. 

“Yeah you’re probably right,” Dean agreed with a laugh. 

“Isn’t there a faculty meeting tomorrow?” Castiel asked. Dean did the calculations and confirmed that yes, there was a faculty meeting. One Friday a month, the principal, Chuck Shurley, got the teachers together to give a ‘status report’. Talk about meetings that could’ve just been an email. 

“You want to do something at the meeting?” Dean asked. Castiel shrugged as he gave it more thought. 

“It could be after the meeting. A lot of the teachers stick around to socialize a bit before leaving for the weekend. And there is a chance Charlie will want at least one of us to hang back anyway,” Castiel said. 

“Oh! I could suggest bringing a certain dish and you can make a jab at it?” Dean suggested. Castiel didn’t seem to be a fan of that one. 

“We’ve already used me not liking your eating habits. We should change it up,” Castiel pointed out. “Oh!” he exclaimed, an idea popping into his head, “Tomorrow is casual Friday, right? You wear some of your more hole-y jeans or an old t-shirt and I can say something about it,” Castiel suggested. 

“Like...just out of the blue?” 

“No,” Castiel said. He laughed as he explained his plan. By the end of the night, they were giddy in anticipation of tomorrow. 

-.. .-. . … … -.-. --- -.. . 

“Hey Charlie,” Dean called out after their meeting. He walked up to her as she was chatting with Castiel. Everything so far seemed to be going according to plan.

“I was wondering what the dress code was for tomorrow night,” Dean asked, glancing at Cas. 

“Oh! Whatever you’re comfortable in. It’s pretty relaxed, so you don’t need to wear slacks or anything,” she explained. 

“Cool, so I could just wear this?” Dean asked, referencing his jeans and band shirt. 

“For sure!” she said. 

“You’re not going to wear another tasteless band shirt, are you?” Castiel piped up. Charlie gasped and looked at Castiel. Dean winked at his boyfriend while Charlie’s head was turned. 

“You got a problem with Led Zeppelin?” Dean asked, schooling his facial expression. At this point, a few more of their coworkers paused their conversations to listen in on the impending fight. 

“I just find hair bands dull and repetitive,” Castiel said, an air of pompous nonchalance about him. Dean scoffed. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean said, “Led Zeppelin is the greatest band ever.”

Castiel shrugged, “Not in my opinion,” he replied. 

“Well your opinion sucks,” Dean retorted, taking a step towards Cas. Charlie stepped in before things could get physical. 

“Okay! Maybe we should all head home. It’s been a long day,” she suggested, grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him out of the conference room. 

“What a dick,” Dean commented. Charlie cursed the heavens. Why did they have to get into a fight the day before the party? How was she supposed to fix this? 

“Maybe he’s just not familiar with their work,” she suggested. Dean was enjoying messing with her, so he kept up the act. 

“No, he seemed pretty confident that Led Zeppelin is a shit band. No goddamn taste!” he declared, throwing his arms up as he stalked off. Luckily, Charlie didn’t chase him, because he couldn’t stop the smile that was creeping onto his face. 

Saturday was going to be fun. 

A few minutes later, in the parking lot, Balthazar called out to Castiel before he could reach his car. 

“Talk about shite taste in music, right?” the brit struck up a conversation, coming around the side of Cas’ car to talk to him. 

“Tell me about it. I’ve never seen the appeal of rock music,” Castiel replied, lying straight through his teeth. It almost hurt him more to diss Led Zeppelin than it hurt Dean to hear it. Balthazar laughed and took another step closer to Cas. Now, Castiel was no expert, but it did seem that Balthazar was breaching his personal space.

“You know, you never told me where you got that hickey,” Balthazar said, eyes dropping down to Cas’ neck. The bruise had since faded, but Castiel’s hand went to rub at where it had been. He felt sweat starting to prickle at his hairline. He blushed and looked away, trying to think of how to reply to his coworker. 

“I thought I told you I don’t kiss and tell,” he replied with a saucy wink. He knew the brit was an insatiable flirt, and he had found that flirting back was the quickest way to speed up their conversation. Once Balthazar got a little reciprocation, Castiel could be on his merry way (and he had to admit, he loved to flirt; Dean was always extra passionate when he was jealous). 

“Oh, come now,” Balthazar complained, taking another step, closing most of the gap between the two, “you don’t really expect me to believe that.” 

Castiel poked his tongue into his cheek and leaned in to whisper into Balthazar’s ear, “Believe it or not, that’s all you’re getting,” Castiel said, withdrawing quickly and playfully pushing the brit’s shoulder. Now that there was more space between them, Cas opened up the door to his car and climbed in. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow at Charlie’s,” Cas said, closing his door and starting up his car. 

“Indeed you will,” Balthazar said to himself as he watched Castiel drive away. 

-. .- ..- --. …. - -.-- 

As soon as Castiel shut the front door to their apartment, Dean was on him. Castiel didn’t even get to say hello before his mouth was downright assaulted. The english teacher didn’t mind; however, he rather enjoyed this welcome party. 

Dean shoved Castiel against the door, grinding his hips into the man. Cas let out a pleased hum and opened his mouth when Dean’s tongue licked at his lips. 

Dean shuffled his feet around, kicking the inside of Castiel’s to make him adopt a wider stance. Once he was pleased with Cas’ position, Dean slammed his hips into his boyfriend, punctuating his pelvic movement with a small bite at Cas’ lower lip. 

“Not that I don’t love this,” Castiel said breathlessly, “but what’s the occasion?” Dean growled and pushed his hips further into Cas, both of their erections singing at the friction. 

“I saw you talking to him,” Dean said in explanation, attaching his lips to Cas’ neck, but being careful not to leave any marks. Castiel smirked to himself. 

“Oh, you saw that?” 

“ _Oh, you saw that?_ ” Dean mocked, taking a step back to look his boyfriend in the eyes. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” Castiel challenged, biting his lip and raising one eyebrow. 

“You better run,” he said lowly, eyes darkening. Castiel smirked and brushed past him sensually before breaking out into a dash towards the living room. Dean was on his heels, barely missing him as he skirted around the couch. They stared at each other for a long moment. 

“You know, he keeps asking me where I got my hickey,” Castiel revealed. They took slow steps, circling each other around the couch. 

“Yeah? And what do you tell him?” 

Castiel shrugged and kept the answer to himself. Once he made a full rotation around the couch and was closer to their bedroom, he turned around and ran out, Dean literally jumping into action (and over the couch). 

He caught up to Cas in the hallway and grabbed him by the waist to keep him from making it to their bedroom. He pushed his chest against the wall and pressed his body into Cas’ back. Cas could feel his boyfriend’s erection through two layers of denim. 

“Gotcha,” Dean whispered into his ear before thrusting into him, pressing him impossibly close to the wall. Castiel let out a cross between a moan and a whimper.

Dean reached around and undid Castiel’s belt, sliding it out of its loops. Once it was free, Dean cracked it, causing Castiel to jump. Dean knew his boyfriend didn’t like belts in the bedroom, so he dropped it to the floor; he didn’t mind...he had other plans, anyway. His skilled fingers returned to the front of Cas' jeans, rubbing the man’s erection ever so slowly before undoing his button and sliding down the zipper. 

With the pants loose, Dean grabbed them firmly and ripped them down. He fondled the globes of Cas’ ass momentarily, enjoying the show he was putting on for himself. In an effort to get Dean to do something, Castiel pushed his hips back into Dean’s hands. 

“You getting impatient already?” Dean asked, squeezing Castiel’s cheeks, drawing a moan from the man. “You gonna tell me what you told him?” Dean asked. Castiel just moaned and pushed back more. Dean shook his head and removed his hands, raising one and bringing it down swiftly, smacking Cas’ right cheek. The man gasped and sucked in a breath. 

Dean stripped Castiel of his underwear, leaving his ass out in the open. Dean knelt down, kneading Cas’ cheeks in his hands. Without warning, Dean bit the flesh of Cas’ ass, sucking the soft skin and running his tongue over the teeth marks. Cas yelped, but it turned into a groan as Dean worked a hickey onto his ass. 

Dean kissed his way up Cas’ back, removing his shirt when it got in the way. 

“Is he gonna see that one?” Dean asked. When Castiel didn’t answer, he brought his palm down against the other cheek. “I asked a question.” 

“N-no,” Cas stuttered. 

Dean licked his lips and pressed his still-clothed erection into Castiel’s ass. All at once, he was gone; disappeared into their bedroom. He emerged moments later, a bottle of lube in his hands.

He slicked his fingers up and thrust his index into Castiel’s waiting hole. Cas groaned, biting his own lip. This was harsher than Dean usually was, but fuck if it wasn’t turning him on. Cas pushed back onto Dean’s finger, opening himself up. Dean leaned forward and smothered Cas’ shoulders in open-mouthed kisses. 

Soon, he added a second finger, pumping the two in and out, Castiel making delicious noises. He scissored them slightly, making sure Cas was nice and open for this. At his boyfriend’s pleads, Dean added a third finger, Castiel’s hips getting more active as he relaxed on the digits. Dean crooked his fingers, finding that ever-sensitive bundle of nerves and bearing down on them. 

“Ohh FUCK!” Castiel shouted, not having braced himself for that. Dean smiled salaciously, his dick straining against its confines of his jeans. 

Once Dean was sure Cas was ready, he removed his fingers and undid his own pants, shucking them down his legs and kicking them off. He removed his shirt as well before he poured out a bit more lube and coated his much neglected cock. He decided to tease Cas further, smacking his ass with the tip of his dick. 

“Deeaannn,” Cas whined, pushing his hips back. Dean smirked and grabbed Cas’ hips, moving them so he was lined up. He pushed in swiftly, Cas moaning at the intrusion, more because he knew Dean liked to hear him than any actual pain he was causing. Dean pressed a hard kiss into Castiel’s shoulder as he pulled out slowly and slid back in inch by inch. 

Soon the apartment filled with wet sounds and dirty moans. Dean pounded into Cas, reminding him who it was he came home to. Castiel was loving this rough hallway session, and reminded himself fleetingly to let Dean catch him flirting more often. 

“Mmm, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” Dean said into Castiel’s ear. Cas craned his neck, twisting it as far as it would go so he could plant a kiss on Dean’s lips. Dean kissed roughly back, hips faltering as he switched his focus. Castiel pulled away from the kiss and pushed his hips back, leaning further down the wall, bent nearly at a ninety-degree angle. 

Dean grabbed onto his boyfriend’s hips and fucked ruthlessly into him, Castiel letting out a string of moans and encouragements. Dean bit his lip as he went faster, fingers digging deeper into Castiel’s hips as he chased his climax. 

“Fuck, Dean, just like that,” Castiel moaned, lost in sensation. He reached down to stroke his own dick, but Dean batted his hand away, instead grabbing hold himself. He stroked up and down in time with his thrusts. 

Castiel didn’t last long, coming with a shout all over the wall. Dean groaned as Castiel clenched around him, spilling into Cas with one final thrust. He stayed pressed to Cas as his orgasm rocked his body. 

“Mmmm, Cassss,” he moaned, licking at the shell of his boyfriend’s ear. Once he had a moment to catch his breath, he slipped out of Cas and turned him around. He kissed Castiel’s lips hungrily despite still coming down from the high of his orgasm. Cas draped his arms around Dean’s neck and kissed back wholeheartedly. He could feel the cum starting to drip out of his ass and down his leg. 

Dean nibbled at his bottom lip one final time before pushing back and assessing the mess they made. 

“I’ll go grab a washcloth,” he said, stalking towards the bathroom. Castiel, not quite able to move yet, looked at the rapidly drying cum on the wall. He really hoped no murder would be committed in this unit, because he was sure this wasn’t the only stain that would show up under blacklight. 

Dean returned with the damp washcloth and gently ran it between Castiel’s cheeks, the older man sucking in a breath at the sensitivity. Dean kissed him soundly before he cleaned up the wall. 

“I hope no one shines a blacklight in this place,” he commented. 

Castiel chuckled, “I was just thinking that.”

Dean straightened up and smiled at his boyfriend. “You go draw a bath, I’ll finish cleaning up and make something we can snack on in the tub,” Dean said. Castiel nodded and picked up their discarded clothing to drop off in the hamper on his way to the bathroom. 

While the shower left something to be desired, the tub was actually quite nice to soak in. Castiel had never been one for baths, but there was something to be said about bathing with a partner. 

Twenty minutes later, the men were in the tub, Cas’ back pressed solidly to Dean’s chest as they snacked on some cheese and crackers. Dean even splurged and poured them each a glass of wine. 

Castiel hummed contentedly and he polished off his wine, setting his glass on the tray they had pulled over to set their spread on. He snuggled back into Dean, leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder. His boyfriend kissed his temple before setting his own empty glass on the tray. 

“I love you,” Dean said softly into Castiel’s hair. 

“I love you, too,” Castiel replied, eyes becoming very heavy. 

“Okay...I think it’s bedtime,” Dean said. Castiel grumbled and hunkered down.

“‘M comfy here.”

“Yeah, for now. But the water will turn cold and then we’ll be freezing our asses off,” Dean reasoned, “C’mon,” he prompted, moving to sit up. 

Castiel whined in displeasure, but stood up anyway, stepping out of the tub. Dean smiled as he looked at the dark purple mark on his boyfriend’s ass. 

“What’re you smirking at?” Castiel asked, looking down and seeing the hickey Dean left. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“Mmm, you know I love it when you use big words,” Dean said dreamily, pulling the plug in the bath and standing up. Castiel rolled his eyes and handed Dean a towel. 

“You’re just lucky you’re cute,” Cas remarked, toweling down and heading towards their bed. Dean toweled off quickly and followed his boyfriend, flicking off the lights in the bathroom as he went. 

They forewent pajamas, Dean cuddling up against Castiel’s back. 

“That thing better not wake me up in the morning,” Castiel warned. Dean smiled and wiggled his hips. 

“No promises.” 


	4. Game Night: Minute-to-Win-It

As it turned out, Dean was the one with a rather...stiff wake-up call ( _“I thought you said you didn’t want to wake up because of a penis” “no, I said I didn’t want to wake up because of **your** penis”_). 

“So are we driving to this separately?” Dean asked as he stepped out of the shower. Castiel spit his toothpaste in the sink and rinsed out his mouth. 

“Hmm. I guess we should, huh?” 

Dean slid up behind Cas and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. He kissed the bare skin of Cas’ shoulder, traveling up to nip at his neck. Castiel let him, knowing that they would hardly be able look at each other that evening. 

“If you keep that up, I’m going to have to wear a turtleneck,” Castiel pointed out. Dean chucked against his neck, the hot puffs of breath sending a shiver down Cas’ spine. He relinquished his hold on Cas and strode into the bedroom to get dressed. 

“I was thinking,” Castiel said as he started taming his hair, “I could bring a bottle of wine and you could bring a case of beer. Maybe squabble about the other’s choice of drink?” 

Dean nodded his head and agreed. “Who brings wine to a party? Are we in our mid-forties?” Dean mocked. 

“You might get in trouble for that, some of them _are_ in their mid-forties,” Castiel pointed out. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled another Led Zeppelin t-shirt over his head. 

“You’re going to make me bash Zep _again_?” Castiel complained. Dean looked down at his shirt and smirked. 

“Gotta defend their honor. I wouldn’t let some stuck-up prick diss my favorite band and get away with it,” Dean said, leaning against the door jamb. Castiel shook his head and returned to his task. 

.--. .- .-. - -.-- - .. -- . 

“Castiel! Come on in!” Charlie greeted. She led him down the hallway and into the living room. Jo and Balthazar were already there, chatting on the couch. They turned when they heard the new arrival and greeted him warmly. 

“I also,” Castiel said, addressing Charlie, “brought this,” he handed the host the bottle of wine he’d picked up on his way over. Balthazar quickly snatched it before it even reached the host’s hands and inspected the bottle thoroughly.

“Hmm...cabernet sauvignon,” he said, not displeased, but obviously not overwhelmed, “I’m a bit more partial to _‘Menage a Trois’_ ,” he revealed with a wink to Cas. Charlie rolled her eyes and took the bottle back from her guest. 

“Thank you, Castiel, you really didn’t have to bring anything,” she said, giving him a warm smile. The gears in Castiel’s mind were turning as he weighed the pros and cons of flirting with Balthazar tonight. On the one hand, it might throw Charlie off her plans of pushing Dean and him together. On the other...he wasn’t sure how Dean would react. Castiel still had a pretty wicked hickey on his ass from the last time he ‘flirted’ with Balthazar. And Dean hadn’t even heard what they were saying, he just saw them standing close together. Castiel was pulled out of his internal debate by a loud noise at the front of the house. 

“Chuckles!” a certain biology teacher called out, “look who I found loitering suspiciously outside!” he announced, entering the living room with Dean under his arm. A funny sight, since Gabriel was so much shorter than his coworker. 

“I was not loitering,” Dean groused. 

“Unhand the poor guy,” Charlie said. Dean threw her a grateful look and presented the case of beer he brought. 

“Oh, Dean. You didn’t have to bring anything!” she said. Castiel was about to make a jab at the beer when Gabriel spoke up. 

“Yeah, especially since I brought the good stuff,” Gabriel declared, presenting a bottle of tequila to the room. There was a chorus of groans at the alcohol. 

“Gabe, as much as you might want to be, we _aren’t_ in college anymore,” Balthazar pointed out. Gabriel scoffed and set the bottle on the coffee table in the center of the room. 

“You guys will be _thanking me_ that I brought this in a couple hours,” he said petulantly, “and who the fuck brought wine? We may not be in college, but we’re also not a middle-aged book club,” Gabriel said. Dean not-so-subtly choked back a laugh. Castiel threw a glare his way on instinct, and had to keep the smile from creeping out as well. 

“I rather enjoy finally having someone else here who has taste,” Balthazar defended. The others complained about being lumped in with Gabriel, and Balthazar missed the glare Dean threw him as he smiled warmly at Cas. 

“Ok, since we’re all here now, we can discuss what we’re doing tonight,” Charlie announced. “I thought it would be fun if we did some of those minute-to-win-it games.”

At her coworkers’ hums of approval, she pressed on, “ok, so instead of picking teams like we usually do, I thought it would be a bit more fair to our new-comers if we played one round as a sort of free-for-all. Then, the top two players can be, like, team captains and pick the teams we’ll have for the rest of the night,” she suggested. When she heard no protests, she went to grab the supplies they’d need for the first game. 

“I think in honor of our new players, we should all take a shot,” Gabriel suggested, already going to the kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Some of them groaned, but they knew Gabriel wouldn’t back down, so they all agreed to take a shot to start off the night. 

Once he poured everyone some tequila (whistling the entire time he was doing so), Gabriel raised his glass to give a toast, “to destroying friendships, one game at a time!” 

“Gabriel!” Charlie complained. They all clinked glasses and swallowed down the liquid, many of them wincing and gagging at the taste. 

“ _Bordel de merde_ ,” Balthazar grumbled, setting his glass down, “where’s that wine?” he stalked off to find the glasses and pour himself something he actually enjoyed. 

“Well, there’s snacks in the dining room if you guys get hungry,” Charlie said, going to set up the first game. 

When they were all back in the living room, Balthazar and Castiel with a glass of wine each, Jo and Dean with a beer, and Gabriel with god-knows-what in the red solo cup he found god-knows-where, the host stood up and explained the first game. 

“Alright, so basically the point of this game is to get an oreo from your forehead into your mouth without using your hands. Since there’s six of us, we’ll do three head-to-heads, then a semi-final of those three winners, then a championship match between the remaining two. Sound good?” 

“I think there should be a consolation match, and the loser of that has to take another shot!” Gabriel suggested. Charlie rolled her eyes, but no one seemed against it enough to shoot it down. 

“Alright, I’ll put our names in my phone and have it randomize pairs,” Charlie said, doing just that. She was done in seconds and declared, “Gabriel and Jo are up first.” 

The two faced-off and Jo was a clear winner. Gabriel didn’t even get the cookie in his mouth; it ended up on the floor a couple times before he just grabbed it with his fingers and chomped down on it; at least enjoying the cookie since he’d already lost. 

“Alright, Jo moves on, Gabriel gets sent to the consolation match,” Charlie announced. Jo raised up her arms in victory while Gabriel hung his head and sat back down. 

“Better luck next time,” Dean commented sarcastically at the biology teacher. Gabriel gave him a nasty side eye, but before he could get out a witty comeback, Charlie announced the next pair.

“Next up is...Castiel and Balthazar,” she said. The two set their wine glasses down and stood in the center of the room. It was a fierce match, but Castiel just beat out Balthazar, chewing the cookie triumphantly. 

“Looks like Balthazar is also on his way to taking another tequila shot. Dean, that leaves you and me,” Charlie said.

“Be careful, Winchester,” Gabriel warned, “wouldn’t want to see you choke.” Dean narrowed his eyes at his coworker, hardly biting back an _oh honey, I don’t choke_. Instead, he put on his blue steel (“it is _not_ a ‘flirty-face’, Cas”) and shot Gabe a wink. The shorter man’s expression was unreadable as Dean and Charlie grabbed their cookies.

Much to his chagrin, Dean’s performance in this game was on par with Gabriel’s; Charlie won easily, advancing her into the semi-finals. 

“Too bad, Dean-o,” Gabriel teased as Dean sat back down after his defeat. 

“Hey, you didn’t win your round either, buddy,” Dean reminded him. 

“I never had much experience getting cookie _off_ of my face,” Gabriel said in a disgusting innuendo the others were lucky not to hear, “but I don’t know if you can say the same.” 

Dean looked the man up and down, a smirk crossing his lips. Gabriel really wanted to play this game? Fine. 

“Let’s just say-” 

“Ok!” Charlie interrupted, having just finished her conversation with Jo (and thankfully missing out on Dean and Gabriel’s dialogue), “let’s do the semi-finals first, and then you boys can compete in the consolation bracket,” she said through a laugh. 

Charlie, Castiel, and Jo took their places in the middle of the room to compete for the championship. Gabriel counted down, and the three were off. They made the most unflattering faces to try to push the cookies towards their mouths, causing the three in their seats to bust out laughing. The laughter, in turn, threw off the competitors. As it turned out, Charlie was the last one to successfully get the cookie in her mouth, so she was out.

“Alright, it looks like Castiel versus Jo to see who gets to pick first for teams. But, before that...boys,” she called, the three losers of the head-to-heads stood up and took their places. Charlie counted them off, and Balthazar easily maneuvered the oreo into his mouth. The other two, however, were not as successful. 

“This is just pathetic,” Balthazar said, having watched both Gabriel and Dean drop their cookie at least twice each. Not only was their gameplay pathetic, but the trash talk they were dishing out left something to be desired. 

Castiel shook his head and took another sip of his drink when his boyfriend sneered something at Gabriel about overcompensation. _He’s really the best I could do?_ Cas thought to himself, hiding his smile in his wine glass. Luckily, his coworkers were all watching the two buffoons with oreos on their faces. 

In the end, Gabriel did manage to get the oreo in his mouth before Dean, so it was the physics teacher who had to take the shot. 

“Fuck,” Dean said as he slammed down the shot glass, “that just tastes like bad decisions.” 

“Speaking of bad decisions,” Charlie said, “Jo and Castiel have to compete to see who picks first for teams.” The two took their spots and placed the oreo on their foreheads. At Charlie’s countoff, they contorted their faces in hopes of winning the inaugural game. The others were all cheering from their seats, enjoying the show of their coworkers pushing an oreo down their faces. 

It was a close call, but Jo was the one who came out on top. Castiel was disappointed, but he knew he’d get her back somehow. He was also pretty certain she was going to leave Dean as the last pick so Castiel had to have him on his team. 

“Ok, Jo,” Charlie said, “you get first pick.” 

Jo seemed to deliberate for a moment before stating, “Charlie.” Castiel nodded at her choice. Having the host on your team was obviously an advantage, and she had been in the semi-finals with them. 

Castiel eyed the rest of the options and easily declared, “Balthazar.” The brit smiled at him, and his boyfriend threw him a glare. Castiel had to bite back a smile as Jo and Charlie whispered conspiratorially about who they would pick for their team. 

“If you pick Gabriel, then Dean has to be on Cas’ team,” Charlie pointed out in a whisper. 

“But if I pick Dean, then we could have him compete against Cas,” Jo pointed out. Charlie seemed to think about that for a moment. 

“But what if they end up fighting? I think it’s a safer bet to have them rooting _for_ each other,” the host reasoned. Jo pursed her lips, but nodded as she came to a decision. 

“Gabriel,” she announced. 

“Wow, I get it...the new guy is the last-pick,” Dean lamented as he moved to be closer to his team. 

“You also lost the first game, so strategically, I would’ve done the same,” Castiel pointed out, throwing a shrug Jo’s way. Dean scoffed and took a seat on the couch next to Balthazar. Being as it was an ‘L’ shaped couch, and five of them were occupying it, Dean got the shitty corner bit. Jo was on his left while his teammates were on his right. Charlie was next to Jo and Gabriel was sequestered to the kitchen chair that had been pulled up. 

After having a second to chat, Charlie stood and rounded up the things they needed for the next game. Jo made small talk with Dean while Balthazar flirted with Castiel. At first, Dean was resistant towards flirting with Jo (even though she was basically a physical representation of _his type_ ), but as he eyed the French teacher chatting up his boyfriend, he thought, _two can play at that game_. 

“So, Jo, did you grow up here?” he asked, turning on his charm. She told him about her family and what led her to Middlefield, and he was sure to laugh at all of her jokes. After a while, Jo seemed to catch herself, and tried to wrangle everyone into the same conversation. She couldn’t get side-tracked; she had money riding on Dean getting together with _Cas_ , not her. 

They didn’t have to chat too much longer, as Charlie walked in with chopsticks and what appeared to be a bag of hex nuts. 

“So this one’s called The Nutstacker,” the host announced. There were audible groans at the name, but she just continued. “This one is two-v-two, and the other team gets to choose their opponents, so start thinking about who you want to have play. The player on each team who _doesn't_ play this will face off solo in the next game. Now, the object of this game is to make a tower of nuts. Each player will have five nuts on their stick, and you have to balance each one on top of the next,” she explained. The two teams got together to discuss strategy on who they wanted to pick. 

“Ok,” Charlie said after a minute, “who have you chosen to play?”

Castiel, being the team captain, replied, “Jo and Gabriel.” They thought it would be wise to split up the girls, but they didn’t want Jo to face off in the solo round. 

“Alright,” said Jo, “and we pick Dean and Castiel.” The couple looked at each other, unsurprised at the other team’s choice. 

“Ok, that means it will be me against Balthazar for the next game. Pairs, step up to the coffee table,” Charlie instructed. They set up the game, each player brandishing a chopstick with five nuts on it. The pairs stood on opposite sides of the table, ready to start stacking. 

“Remember, it doesn't matter if the tower falls, you can restart as long as there’s still time on the clock,” Charlie said. She counted them off and they began stacking. 

The boys began at a relatively good pace, balancing the nuts with ease. 

“C’mon, Gabe, they’re winning!” Jo yelled. Their team trailed three to six. 

“You guys have got this, slow and steady,” Balthazar soothed. Dean looked up and the brit’s eyes were solely on Cas. Dean gritted his teeth and fucked up the next placement, causing the whole thing to come crashing down. 

“Damnit, Dean,” Castiel cursed, rushing to get five nuts back on his chopstick so they could start again. Jo and Gabriel were already at seven, but their tower seemed mighty wobbly. 

“Shuddap, we’ll be fine,” Dean retorted. They got back to stacking, laying down the first four with ease. 

“Damn you guys are pretty good at this,” Charlie commented. She apologized to her teammates when they gave her an exasperated look. 

“Dean, I am not losing this game, c’mon,” Castiel said, his competitive side leaking out over their little ‘enemies’ ruse. The couple concentrated and worked together, coming in under the wire, besting Jo and Gabriel ten-to-nine. Balthazar cheered and wrapped Castiel in a hug. Dean had to bite down on his tongue almost hard enough to draw blood. Castiel extracted himself from Balthazar and stuck out his hand. 

“Good game, Winchester,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. Dean smiled back, causing the girls to face each other and give a look. 

“Okay, Balthazar, the game we are playing is...well, basically the objective is that there are ping pong balls in this tissue box, and we are gonna tie them to our waists and try to twerk them out.” 

Gabriel, of course, barked out a laugh and teased, “oh, man, I’ve gotta record this!” 

“You will _not_ be doing that,” Balthazar said sternly. Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“Ok, well at least make this a little more interesting, then.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Balthazar asked. 

“Losing team takes a shot,” the others groaned and Gabriel interjected, “what? Afraid you’re gonna lose?” he taunted. Of course, they couldn’t stand for that, so the two shook hands and the bet was on. Dean whined internally. He’d already had two shots and two beers, and he was still hoping to drive home tonight. He feared that that might not be a possibility if Balthazar lost. 

Charlie and Balthazar took their spots and secured the boxes around their waist. Jo counted them down, and they were off. Gabriel nearly fell off his chair with the force of his laughter. He wiped at his eyes as ping pongs flew out of the boxes haphazardly. There were cheers coming from everybody, so loud that Castiel feared the neighbors might call to complain. 

The last ping pong ball in the box was expelled by none other than Charlie, the host celebrating by giving Balthazar the middle finger. 

“Drink up, boys,” Charlie said, laughing as she took the box off her waist. 

The losing team hung their heads and grabbed a shot glass, grimacing before the drinks were even poured. They clinked their glasses together, Gabriel joining in even though his team emerged victorious ( _“In solidarity!”_ ). 

“I need more wine,” Castiel said, gagging at the tequila, “Do you want any, Balthazar?” 

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m quite alright,” he declined. Dean cracked open another beer, needing to get that awful taste out of his mouth. He would’ve gone for some chips, but Gabriel had finished them off during the twerk-battle. 

“Ok,” Charlie said, “another two-v-two. Same rules apply. This time, the game is a candy toss. In each pair, there will be a ‘pitcher’ and a ‘catcher’,” a few of them scoffed at the innuendo. Charlie rolled her eyes and pressed on, “you’ll take a skittle from this bowl and attempt to throw it into your partner’s cup. The one with the most pieces of candy after a minute, wins!” 

They deliberated as teams once again, strategically picking out their opponents. 

“Jo?” Charlie prompted.

“We pick Castiel and Balthazar,” Jo announced.

“And we pick…” Castiel weighed the pros-and-cons and ultimately decided, “Charlie and Jo.” The ladies were shocked that they paired them up. “Look, we weren’t gonna let one of you go up against Dean alone,” Cas explained. Dean protested while the girls nodded their heads in understanding. 

“Do you prefer to pitch, or catch?” Balthazar asked, question laced with heavy sexual overtones. 

Castiel replied, “Catch,” shooting Balthazar a wink in return. 

Dean’s jaw stiffened as the teams took their positions. Gabriel counted the pairs down, starting the timer on his phone. He slipped up next to Dean as their teams fought it out. 

“I can’t believe they think we’re bad at these games,” Gabriel huffed. 

“To be fair, you haven’t won a single game you’ve participated in,” Dean pointed out. 

“Yeah, well at least I didn’t lose the very first game of the night,” he shot back. “How about we make our little head-to-head more interesting?” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“If the wager is more tequila, I’d rather chew glass,” Dean said. 

“Aww, Dean-o. Are you scared you’re gonna lose and prove that you’re the worst player here? I mean, I wasn’t sure about Charlie inviting you and Cassie, but at least _he_ seems to be pretty decent at these games. You? Not so much,” Gabe taunted. 

“Shut up,” Dean said, bristling slightly at the shorter man’s words. 

“I mean, I understand if you don’t want to take the bet. I know you’re dealing with some...confidence issues,” Gabriel said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked. 

“ _Two shots_ says you can’t beat me in the next game,” Gabriel wagered, sticking out his hand hopefully. Dean rolled his eyes, but clasped his hand in Gabriel’s, effectively putting their wager into action. He couldn't believe he let the man influence him so easily. Maybe the alcohol was clouding his judgement more than he thought. Before long, the buzzer went off, and they went to count the pieces. 

“Fuck,” Jo said after the tally came out 50-44. The boys high fived and Charlie started eating the skittles they’d just finished counting. They all took a quick snack break, everyone chatting with the two newest faculty members. Dean pulled at another beer as he was asked all the typical get-to-know-you questions alongside Cas. He was afraid that this conversation would turn disastrous, but nothing dramatic came up. 

After about twenty minutes, Charlie slipped away to set up the next game. 

“Alright,” she announced from the living room. The rest of them moseyed back to Charlie as she explained the rules of Dean and Gabriel’s head-to-head. “For this one, you have to bounce ten pencils into these ten cups,” she said, handing each participant a handful of pencils. They stared each other down as Charlie counted them off. 

They got straight to work, Dean pulling ahead with an early lead. He teased Gabriel as he put a couple cups’ space between them. Karma didn’t like the taunting, and Gabriel hit a smooth streak while Dean remained hung up at cup five. 

The others were shouting at Dean and Gabriel, some being encouraging toward their own teammates, but mostly a lot of smack talk aimed at the other team. The boys caught up at cup seven, Dean pulling ahead into cup eight. Gabriel readjusted his stance and sunk the last three pencils in a display of remarkable hand-eye coordination. Dean swore and smacked the table, hanging his head. 

“Dean-o!” Gabriel shouted, bouncing over to the tequila bottle, “Someone ordered a double.” 

“ _Two?_ ” Castiel interjected. Dean looked at him sheepishly and nodded his head. 

“Dear lord,” Castiel said under his breath. Dean took both shots, grimacing after both of them, and pleading with Gabriel to let him stop after the first. The biology teacher was not in a merciful mood. 

“Well, since both teams are tied 2-2, we’ll play one more as a tie-breaker,” Charlie announced. “This one is called the Cup of Fun.” 

“I like where this is going,” Gabriel said. 

“There will be eighteen cups on the coffee table, each filled with a different liquid. Three cups will have a shot of tequila, four cups will have beer, two cups will have wine, four cups will have juice, and five will have water,” she explained, “three of the cups will have a sticker on the bottom of it. Each team takes turns choosing a cup and drinking it. The first team to find at least two stickers wins.” 

“How will we mix them up so we don't know which cup has the sticker?” Castiel asked. 

“Great question! My team will place the stickers on the bottom of empty cups while your team’s backs are turned. You guys will fill the cups with liquid and mix them up as you go, but don’t cheat and check which ones have the stickers. You’ll turn around again as we mix them up a final time. Sound good?” 

Everyone agreed and Jo’s team put the stickers on the cups. The boys got the drinks and poured away, mixing up the cups as they went along. Jo’s team mixed them up once more, and they all took their seats around the table. 

“Ok, we’ll go in the order the teams were chosen. Jo, that means you’re first.” The blonde nodded and inspected the cups, pulling one off the table and drinking it. 

“Water. Nothing,” she reported. Castiel was next.

“Juice. Nothing,” he said. Charlie ran her hands over a few cups before settling on one. 

“Juice. Sticker!” she exclaimed, shooting up from her chair. Cas’ team groaned as Jo’s team celebrated. Balthazar was next. 

“Ahh, _merci!_ It’s wine,” he said, swirling it around the cup for dramatic effect before swallowing it and checking the bottom, “ _sans_ sticker.” 

Gabriel chose a cup and knocked it back, “water,” he complained, “nothing.” Dean leaned forward and selected one. 

He winced as he swallowed, “fuck me, that was tequila,” he said, “and no fucking sticker!” They were back at the top of the lineup. 

“Water. Nothing.” 

“Water. Nothing.”

“Wine,” Charlie said, happily draining the cup, “no sticker.” 

“Water. And sticker! That’s what I’m talking about!” exclaimed Balthazar. 

The teams were tied one-to-one. 

“Beer. Nothing.” 

“Gah, fuck! Tequila again!” Dean shouted, “And no fucking sticker, _again!_ ” The rest of the table erupted in laughter at Dean’s misfortune. Jo reached out and took another cup. 

“Beer. Nothing.” Castiel took a moment to decide carefully which cup he wanted to drink from. 

“Tequila,” he winced, checking the bottom of the cup, “sticker!!” He shouted. His team all shot up into the air at their victory. Castiel sussed out one of the juice cups and took a swig to get the taste out of his mouth. His mind briefly thought about how much his mouth would rather taste like Dean. He was about to go make out with his boyfriend when he remembered their little plot.

Castiel assisted Charlie in clearing off the rest of the cups, draining the ones filled with water as he went. His thoughts drifted back to Dean, and how much he wanted to just sneak off and make out with him. He got a little melancholy when he knew that he couldn’t. Not in front of their coworkers. 

“Why the long face, you won!” Charlie pointed out as they dumped the cups into the trash. 

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Castiel waved off, “I’m just thinking about how I’ll be able to get home,” he said with a chuckle. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay in my guest room. Gabriel will be crashing on the couch, though, and I have to warn that he likes to play pranks, especially in the morning,” Charlie cautioned. Castiel laughed as he pictured what his coworker might get up to in just a few short hours. Dean stumbled over and threw his arm around Castiel. 

“You guys talkin’ ‘bout me?” Dean asked, speech slurring noticeably. 

“Alright,” Castiel said, smelling the alcohol on Dean’s breath, “I think somebody needs to go home.” 

“I’m good to drive,” Balthazar said, “I could give you two a lift.” 

Castiel almost agreed before he remembered that he and Dean lived together. “Uhh, actually. I’m sort of out-of-the-way. I’ll just crash here tonight and drive home tomorrow,” he said. 

“You sure? It’s really no trouble,” Balthazar said, stooping under Dean’s other arm to prop him up between the two. 

“I’m good, really,” Castiel insisted. The brit acquiesced, and the language teachers walked down the hall to the front door. 

“Looks like someone can’t hold his-” Gabriel’s taunt was interrupted with a hiccup, “liquor,” he finished confidently, ignoring the epiglottal malfunction. Dean stared him down and took his arms off of his coworkers. He pushed a finger into Gabriel’s chest, backing the man up against the wall.

“I could go shot-for-shot with fucking Jack Daniels himself, but you?...oh, I don’t think you’d _measure_ up,” Dean taunted. Gabriel stared at Dean and licked his lips, noticing Dean’s eyes follow the movement of his tongue. 

“You wanna fuck me so bad, it makes you look stupid,” Gabriel spat back. 

“Ok, you two,” Balthazar interjected, pulling Dean back and practically pushing him out the door. Castiel followed, taking a deep breath as he exited his coworker’s house. The language teachers managed to get Dean into Balthazar’s car without too much of a fuss. 

“I guess I’ll see you Monday at school,” Castiel said. 

“Yes, you will. You played wonderfully tonight, Castiel. I do hope you choose to return next time.” 

“I would love to, if I’m invited.” 

“You will always be invited,” Balthazar said, taking Castiel’s hand and placing a suave kiss to the back of it, “ _Je te le promets, mon cheri._ ” 

Castiel slow blinked and walked back into the house. He headed straight for the bathroom; his bladder had been screaming at him since the candy toss. 

When he emerged, he found the host cleaning up their mess and Gabriel passed out on the couch. 

“Where’s Jo?” he asked. 

“She lives right down the street. She walked home,” Charlie explained. Castiel nodded his head and helped the host tidy up. Once they were done setting the living room back in order, Charlie showed Castiel the guest bedroom. 

“You played really well tonight,” she complimented. 

“Thank you. I do have somewhat of a competitive side, so this was a lot of fun.” 

“Well, you’re totally invited to the next one. Dean, too,” she said, tossing him a look as she made her way towards her own bedroom. 

-.. .-. ..- -. -.- -.-. --- -. ..-. . … … .. --- -. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, Dean?” Balthazar asked. The man in question swung his head towards the driver and shrugged. 

“Was alright,” he slurred. 

“Just alright?” 

“Well, yeah I took fix sucking- no, six fucking shots of tequila, so...yeah,” he pointed out. 

“Ah, yes, well...Gabriel does have a tendency to get us drunker than we anticipate,” he agreed, “did you like the company, at least?” 

“Yeah,” Dean got a dreamy look on his face. 

“What’s that smile for?” Balthazar asked, amused at his drunk coworker’s mannerisms. 

“He’s just so pretty, isn’t he?” Dean asked. Balthazar’s eyebrows pinched together. He thought Gabriel told him that Dean didn’t swing that way. 

“Who is?” 

“Who’s what?” 

Balthazar chuckled, “Who’s pretty?” 

“Well, shit, you know who’s pretty?” Dean asked. Balthazar shook his head through another laugh. According to his GPS, they should be getting to Dean’s place fairly soon. 

“Man...those blue eyes...I cou-could swim in ‘em!” Dean declared. 

“Whose blue eyes?” Balthazar pressed, heart pounding faster. 

“Cas’,” Dean answered simply, “I can’t wait to give ‘im anoth’r hickey,” he stated, making weird biting sound effects. It took the intoxicated man a second, but once he realized what he’d said, he slapped his hand over his mouth, “I wasn’ s’posed to say that!” 

“You-”

“Shit, fuck! I totally fucked it up! The bet,” Dean said, adding bitterly, “So didja win?” 

“No, Dean, I don’t bet on things like that. Are you telling me _you_ gave Castiel that hickey?”

“Heh. I gave him another one right on his ass last night,” Dean boasted. 

“So you two are...together?” he asked. 

“Duh-doi! We’ve been a thing for y-years,” he hiccuped. 

“Years? Well, this is...” Balthazar trailed off. 

“You gonna rat me out?” Dean asked skeptically. 

“Oh, why on earth would I do that?” Balthazar asked, “this is almost too perfect.”

“Perfect?” Dean parroted, “I thought you’d be a lil bit...sadder about this.” 

“Why would I be sad?”

“I don’ know, you’ve been flirting with my boyfriend for _forever_!” Balthazar grimaced, genuinely sorry for his actions. In retrospect, he really hadn’t done anything wrong; the two insisted they were single, so he thought Castiel was fair game. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t know! Hell, you made sure specifically that none of us knew.” 

“Ha! Yeah, when we found out about the bet, we decided to have a little fun of our own.” 

“I see. I guess that’s actually quite fair.” 

“Oh shit oh wait...fuck,” Dean said, trying to form a coherent enough sentence out of the mush that was currently swirling around in his mind. 

“What? You’re not going to be sick are you? Should I pull over?” Balthazar asked worriedly. 

“No, no, I know how to hold my liquor, I’m just- me and Cas, we’re...gay,” Dean said, looking at his coworker expectantly. 

“Yes, I figured as much seeing as you are both men and you are in a relationship,” Balthazar responded after it was clear Dean was waiting for a reply. 

“Pshh!” Dean threw his hands up like whatever it was he was trying to say was obvious, “and we work together!” Another long, expectant pause.

“Yes, Dean, I am aware that you work together. Is there a question in there somewhere? Why do you keep looking at me like I should be talking?” 

Dean groaned and wiped a hand down his face, “because we’re gay and dating and coworkers so like that’s three strikes we’re out,” he explained, his stream-of-conscious dialogue truly confusing Balthazar. 

“Three strikes?”

“Baseball! It’s a very popular sport here,” Dean sarcastically explained. Balthazar rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel just a bit tighter. He really hoped he was almost at Dean’s place. 

“I know what baseball is, I’m just confused about why you think those things count as strikes.”

“Because at Cas’ last job he got the boot for kissin’ me, and at this job Ms. Rosen got the boot for kissin’ Mr. Shurley,” Dean replied. Finally, the dots connected. 

“Ok, I see what you mean,” Balthazar started, “First off, I’m sorry about Castiel’s previous employer, but I can assure you, our administration is not homophobic. In fact, even if they were, it would be illegal for them to fire you based on your sexual preference because we teach at a public school. Secondly, Ms. Rosen was not fired for having a relationship with Mr. Shurley.”

“She wasn’t?” Dean asked. 

“No, she left to pursue writing. But the rumor that she was in a relationship with Mr. Shurley was just that: a rumor. I’m fairly certain they were co-authoring a book, which might explain the time they spent together,” Balthazar revealed. 

“So…” Dean started, grabbing his head to process all the new information. Boy, if the world wasn’t spinning before, “she wasn’t fired for dating a staff member?” 

“No. There are no rules regarding personal relationships amongst the staff.” 

“Ok,” Dean nodded, “and they can’t fire us because we’re gay?” 

“No, Dean, they cannot fire you because you are gay,” Balthazar repeated. Dean took a deep breath and slouched against the seat. What a ride this had been (both physically and mentally). 

“So...for the bet...you’re not gonna rat us out, are you?” Dean asked again, having forgotten he’d asked a first time. Balthazar pulled up to his apartment building and put his car in park. 

“You know what? No. I rather enjoy this little ruse you’re putting on. I want to help you,” he stated. 

“No shit? Well, maybe I misjudged ya, Balth,” Dean said, clapping his coworker’s shoulder with his hand. Dean slowly turned his focus to what was outside the car. “Holy shit, I’m home.” 

“Yes, you are.” 

“Thanks for the lift man, and really...I appreciate you not telling everyone about me and Cas. We just wanna have a lil more fun. We’ll come clean soon,” Dean assured him. “And, uh...please don’t tell Cas I told you. He’d never let me hear the end of it,” he pleaded. Balthazar assured him that his secret was safe. Dean shook the brit’s hand and climbed out of the car.

Somehow, he made it up to his apartment and pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Castiel, but he wasn’t entirely sure what it said. That was a problem for Future Dean.

He stripped out of his clothes and flopped onto the bed. 

Game night was fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like game nights, because this isn't the last one ;) 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciated...dare I say even cherished


	5. Kick It To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple things I wanted to say before this chapter...
> 
> This is a really short chapter, but it is also THEE most self-indulgent fluff I think I've ever written
> 
> I was listening to Kick It To Me by Sammy Rae (hence the chapter title), so if you wanted the vibe I would recommend giving it a listen!
> 
> Also, I just got edits back on the last couple chapters, so expect the rest of the story to update fairly quickly!
> 
> Lastly...and quite ominously...enjoy this chapter *dun dun dun*

“Dean,” Castiel called out as he entered their apartment. He furrowed his brow when he didn’t hear a response. Castiel had gotten up pretty early as per usual. He would’ve stayed longer, but he was afraid of being on the bad end of one of Gabriel’s pranks, so he left as soon as he woke up.

Cas called out again, but still didn’t receive an answer. Dean _had_ made it home last night, right? Worst case scenarios flashed through Castiel’s mind one after another. Worried, he paced quickly towards their bedroom and willed his heart to stop beating so fast when he saw his boyfriend sprawled out on the bed. 

“Jesus, Dean,” he whispered to himself. He placed his hand over his thumping heart. It looked as though the physics teacher made it through the motions of going to bed; that is to say, he at least took off the clothes he had gone to the party in. 

Castiel walked towards the bed and ran a hand through Dean’s messy hair. When a tiny sliver of green peaked back at him, Castiel smiled and murmured, “Good morning, Sunshine.” Dean smiled back (that dopey smile he always has on when Castiel is sweet with him) and yawned ferociously. 

“What the hell time is it?” 

“I slept in. It’s almost eight.”

“In the morning?” Dean whined. Castiel chuckled and took off the clothes he’d had on last night. He hated putting clothes from the night before back on after an impromptu sleepover (of which he’d had plenty in college), so he discarded those and slipped on a pair of lounge pants. 

He went to go brush his teeth, and as he passed the bed, Dean called out, “you’re not gonna come cuddle?” 

“Give me a moment, I feel...stale,” he replied, wetting his toothbrush before squeezing out some toothpaste and sticking his toothbrush in his mouth. 

“At least let me look at you,” Dean pleaded. Castiel rolled his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, but conceded and walked into their bedroom. He raised the arm that wasn’t busy in a ‘you happy?’ gesture. Dean smiled and looked Cas up and down, admiring his boyfriend’s lean frame. 

“Show me your hickey,” Dean teased. Castiel flipped him off and turned around to finish his grooming without being objectified.

Once he was finished, he turned the bathroom light off and got under the covers with Dean. The loser of last night’s festivities snuggled up to his boyfriend, laying his head down on Cas’ chest. 

“I missed you last night,” Dean said, pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s skin. 

“I’ve been gone for less than eight hours,” Castiel pointed out. “And to be fair, I stayed at Charlie’s so Balthazar wouldn’t find out we live together.” 

“Mhmm,” Dean said, squeezing tighter. It had been a long time since Dean was in this sort of mood. The man was, at his core, a very loving person, but he felt this need to keep that part locked up tight and hidden behind several layers of bravado and masculinity. Castiel treasured the moments where Dean let himself be vulnerable. 

The English teacher ran his fingertips up and down Dean’s back, letting himself get lost in the motion. He was encouraged at Dean’s pleased hums. The pair lay like that for a while, Castiel continuing his gentle strokes as Dean snored softly on his chest. 

Cas could live a thousand lives just like this. The morning sun cast the room in a soothing light; they had fresh sheets on the bed (expecting a much more sober game night); Dean was tucked in close to his side. Castiel couldn’t think of a better way to spend his Sunday morning. 

Soon enough, Dean started to stir, his fingers weakly stroking at Cas’ side. 

“You know I’m ticklish,” Castiel rumbled, his voice scratchy from disuse. He felt Dean’s smile as he ceased his movements. Dean pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at his boyfriend. 

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Dean said, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Gorgeous, huh?” Castiel inquired, a teasing smile on his lips. Dean smiled back, unusually shy. Cas reached up to cup Dean’s face in his hand. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked. In lieu of an answer, Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and kissed his palm, his wrist, the back of his hand. Dean continued peppering kisses up his boyfriend’s arm, stopping at his favorite spot on Cas’ neck before finally reaching those amazing lips. Their kiss was slow and sweet, but passionate. Castiel had been wanting to make out with Dean since they’d won game night. 

Dean shifted, throwing a leg over Cas so he could properly straddle him. Cas responded eagerly, his hands grabbing Dean’s waist to steady him and gently grind their hips together. They stayed like that for several long, sensual minutes, trading kisses and drinking each other in. 

Castiel, with his lips remaining attached to Dean’s, gently rolled them over so that Dean was on his back. Cas nipped at the stubble on Dean’s jaw before returning to those supple lips. Slow and sweet was their game this morning, and the pair relished every moment. 

“Can we,” Dean whispered breathlessly, “can we do it the cuddly way?” Castiel drew back to look his lover in the eye. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Castiel replied, kissing him once more before retrieving the lube from their bedside drawer. He worked Dean open steadily, neither of them in a rush to do anything else anytime soon. As Dean was reduced to a mumbling pile of goo, Castiel left kisses everywhere he could. 

Once Castiel was satisfied that Dean would be comfortable, he turned him so that he was on his side. Cas slid up behind him and lined himself up, pushing in slowly, allowing Dean to adjust to the intrusion. After being completely seated, Castiel wrapped his arm around his boyfriend’s middle. 

Slowly, he pulled out and pushed back in, hot breaths puffing against the back of Dean’s neck. 

“God, you feel amazing,” Castiel marveled. Dean whimpered back, which Castiel interpreted as a very enthusiastic ‘ditto’. He nipped at Dean’s neck and shoulder, rocking into Dean at a delicious pace, if the noises his boyfriend was making were anything to go by. 

“I love you, Cas,” Dean said, craning his neck so Castiel could kiss him on the lips. A fire ignited at those words; Cas hitched their legs up, allowing him a bit more leverage to hit that sweet spot inside of Dean. 

“Fuck yeah, Cas, just like that,” Dean panted, clutching at the sheets. Castiel continued slamming his hips into Dean, filthy smacking sounds filling the room. Dean was letting out a string of provocative little moans, turning Cas on further. 

He wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock and pumped in time with his thrusts. It didn’t take long for Dean to come, Cas’ name on his lips. Castiel drank in the moment, spilling his load into Dean shortly after he heard his own name come off Dean’s lips so enticingly. 

“You’re perfect,” Cas whispered as he caught his breath. After a moment, he slipped out and went to get out of bed to retrieve a washcloth, but Dean stopped him. 

“Can we just lay here a moment?” he asked. 

“Of course,” Castiel obliged, wrapping his arms around Dean as they lay facing each other, foreheads touching. Dean closed his eyes for a while, allowing Castiel to gaze upon his boyfriend with unfiltered adoration. He was absolutely breathtaking with those long eyelashes, dusting of freckles, and goddamn perfect cheekbones. Castiel couldn’t be more in love if he tried. 

“Do you want me to get that washcloth now?” Cas asked after noticing Dean wiggle his hips a bit uncomfortably. 

“Yes, please,” he replied. Castiel placed a kiss upon his forehead before slipping out of bed to complete the task. Dean silently admired the dark mark on Castiel’s ass cheek as he walked into the bathroom. 

They cleaned up and Castiel offered to make them omelets. They fed them to one another straight from the pan, forgoing plates altogether. Once they’d finished that, they moved to the couch to idly watch TV. It was the picture of domestic bliss. 

“They said we were welcome back to game night anytime,” Castiel said. Dean looked over at him and nodded, a small smile on his lips. 

“I’d like that.” 

… --- ..-. - 

On Monday, at school, Charlie seemed a bit less chipper than normal. Gabriel wandered into her classroom before school started, as he usually did, but she wasn’t responding the same to any of his jokes. He could usually at least get her to threaten him _once_ by the time the bell rang, but she seemed to be keeping to herself. 

“And then I’d thought I’d fill a bucket with snakes, sneak into the air vents, and dump them on your head in the middle of a lecture.”

“Uh huh,” Charlie responded dryly, eyes still trained on her computer screen. The biology teacher had half a mind to actually follow through with that prank...but he wasn’t much of a fan of the concept of him in a small space with a bucket of snakes. 

“You’re not even listening to me!” Gabriel whined, throwing his head back in illustration of his frustration. Charlie sighed and looked up from her computer for the first time that morning. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just...distracted.”

“With what?”

Charlie sighed again. “You know how Castiel said he lived out of the way, so that’s why he turned down a ride?” 

“Yeah?”

“Well, I might’ve done some sleuthing, and he only lives like twenty miles away from my house - max! And it’s in the same area as Balthazar.”

“Ok?” Gabriel questioned. 

“Why did he say he lived out of the way if he could practically walk to Balthazar’s place?” 

“Maybe he didn’t want to have to trouble anyone to pick up his car the next day,” Gabriel reasoned, “that’s why I always stay.”

Charlie leveled her coworker a glare, “you always stay on my couch because unlike you, I have food in my kitchen for breakfast, and you don’t want to have to clean your own sheets if you barf on them,” the redhead corrected. Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, but took in her point and begrudgingly agreed that she maybe, possibly, _might_ have been correct. 

“Agree to disagree,” he said. Charlie rolled her eyes and sent up a prayer when the bell rang, forcing her coworker to return to his own classroom. 


	6. One Thing After Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hesitant to post today because I'm wary of the Ides of March...but then I thought if any of these chapters fit the theme of today, it'd be this one. This is also a fairly long chapter, so buckle up!

Dean woke up on a brisk Friday morning with a smile on his face. He stretched his arms above his head and a ferocious yawn crept up on him. He shook it off and breathed deeply, the smell of eggs wafting into his nostrils. He pulled back the covers and took a quick shower before making his way to the kitchen. 

He thought there would be breakfast waiting for him, but all that was there were dirty dishes. Dean was a little confused, but shrugged it off as he reached for the cereal box. He cursed under his breath when he pulled it from the cupboard and realized it was empty. 

“Fuckin’ throw it away then,” he grumbled, heading towards the trashcan. He popped open the fridge in search of something else to make. He pulled out the carton of eggs and opened it to find one measly egg left. He sighed and put it back in the fridge, closing the door with a bit more force than was necessary. It appeared as though Dean would be forgoing breakfast. 

He returned to the bedroom to put on his work clothes, but couldn’t find any black socks. He knew they needed to do laundry, but he was _certain_ that he still had a pair for today. He’d even counted them out so they’d last him specifically until Friday. Today. 

He cursed to himself and checked Cas’ drawer, but there were no black socks to be found. Dean sighed and returned to his own drawer, picking out a pair of novelty socks he didn’t think he’d worn since he got them. 

He gathered his things and headed to work. When Dean saw Cas’ car parked by the gym entrance, he cursed the man for leaving him with no breakfast. Dean decided to stop in the teacher’s lounge for coffee, and sent a thank you up to the heavens when he noticed the donut box sitting on one of the tables. There was a moment of terror when Dean thought that the box might be empty; it would’ve been par for the course the way his morning had been shaking out. He let out a sigh of relief when he pulled out a glazed donut. He poured himself a cup of coffee and headed up to his room. 

Not too long after he’d sat down, Charlie popped her head in to say hello. 

“Goodmorning, Mr. Winchester,” she greeted. 

“I don’t know if I’d describe it as ‘good’,” he griped, taking a swig of his coffee. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? C’mon, it’s Friday! You should be celebrating,” she told him. A bitter laugh escaped him as he pulled out his laptop from his bag. 

“Well,” Charlie went on when she realized she wasn’t going to get a response, “I just wanted to pop in and let you know we are rescheduling Game Night for tonight instead of tomorrow. Jo has something with her mom, I guess.” Dean nodded his head. 

“Yeah ok.”

“Tonight works for you?” she asked to confirm. Dean thought about it and wondered if Castiel had planned anything for the evening. 

“Does it work for everyone else?” Dean checked. 

“Yep! You’re my last stop to make sure,” she replied. So, Dean had his answer. Castiel apparently agreed that Game Night would work tonight, so he didn’t have any plans that conflicted. 

“Uh, yeah, sure. I can do tonight,” Dean confirmed. She smiled at him and returned to her classroom once the bell had rung. Dean sat at his desk a little disappointed. He thought maybe Cas had planned something for just the two of them tonight. He figured he was wrong and greeted his students as the last one slunk in. 

…. --- .-- .-. ..- -.. . 

Castiel woke up Friday morning with a knot already in his stomach. Today, the principal was sitting in on his class for his teaching assessment. Castiel had been stressing about it all week, throwing himself into his lesson plans to make sure they were absolutely perfect. He went over them as he cooked himself an omelet.

While he waited for his eggs, he snacked on the cereal they had in the cupboard. He’d finished the box, but shrugged and put it back before plating his eggs. As he finished up, he checked the time and cursed as he unceremoniously tossed the dishes into the sink.

He slipped back into the bedroom, careful not to wake Dean. He packed the clothes he’d be wearing to work and dressed in athletic wear. Castiel glanced at the overflowing laundry basket, knowing that he should have done at least one load last night. He checked his drawer, but was unsurprised when he didn’t find any black socks. He needed to look professional today, so he tip-toed over to Dean’s dresser and stole the pair he needed. Cas stuffed them in his bag and headed off to school. 

He was able to work off some of his stress on the treadmill, letting his mind get lost in his music and the rhythmic pounding of his feet as they carried him for two miles. He greeted Balthazar and they ran in silence, Castiel not in the headspace for chitchat. 

Both men were surprised when the door opened and Charlie walked in. Castiel immediately removed his headphones and gave her a questioning look. 

“I thought I’d find you two down here,” she said. 

“Well, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Balthazar said as he stopped his treadmill. Charlie strode up to the machines and leaned against the French teacher’s. 

“So, apparently Jo is busy tomorrow night. Is it possible that we could do Game Night tonight instead? I asked Gabriel and he said he was in if everyone else was,” she explained. Balthazar sucked in a hesitant breath as he seemed to make calculations in his mind. 

“I guess I could swing tonight,” he said eventually, having mentally rearranged his calendar. Castiel nodded absently. Truth be told, he couldn’t think of anything past his assessment today. 

“How about you, Cas? You free tonight?” 

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he said. He racked his mind for any reason why he wouldn’t be free, but he came up empty. There was a lingering thought that he might be forgetting something, but he chalked that up to the nerves of his evaluation. He knew that he really shouldn’t be this worried; he was a decent teacher, and he had gotten most of the kids to actually engage with the material. He was just worried because this was the first time he’d be evaluated at a full-time job. 

“Awesome. I’ll see you tonight, then,” she said as she made her exit. 

Castiel decided to just end his workout there and do some stretching before he hit the showers. Balthazar joined him and they cooled down together, hypothesising as to what games Jo had planned for tonight. They all took turns picking what they played. Balthazar was slated to choose next after Jo. 

After they were done with that, they hit the showers, and Castiel very carefully got dressed, making sure absolutely nothing was out of order. 

“What’s got you so anxious?” Balthazar asked as he placed his dirty clothes in his locker. Castiel stopped playing with his hair long enough to look at Balthazar in the mirror. 

“I have my evaluation today,” he revealed. 

“Ah, yes. With Mr. Shurley?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, don’t be too nervous. You’re a delightful teacher. I’ve overheard some of my students talking about your class,” Balthazar assured his friend. 

“Really?” Cas asked, applying yet another coat of deodorant. 

“Yes. You’ll be fine. Evals really aren’t as terrible as you’re probably imagining them to be,” Balthazar soothed. Castiel took a deep breath and nodded his head. He knew he was building this up into something it wasn’t, but he just couldn’t help it. 

He grabbed his bag and marched determinedly to his classroom, hoping the ‘fake it til you make it’ method started paying off soon. 

As he set up, the biggest worry in his mind was when exactly this was going to take place. They told him a couple of possible times, but they never confirmed one over the other, so Castiel got to stress about which class was even being observed. 

He made it all the way to lunch without seeing the principal, and Castiel sighed as he grabbed his leftovers and headed to the teacher’s lounge. Hopefully, he could be distracted by decent conversation. He at least wouldn’t be bored; nobody could be bored at lunch with Gabriel. 

.-. ..- -- .- -. -.. -.-. --- -.- . 

Dean sat down with the lunch he bought from the cafeteria. He wasn’t necessarily excited about it, but he didn’t have anything in the fridge to bring today. He decided to treat himself to a coke from the vending machine. As he cracked it open, he sighed as he looked at his tray. They were serving cheesesteaks today, and as Dean inspected further, he realized there were green peppers on it. He sighed deeply. Today was just not going his way. 

“Looks like you could use some Jack in that coke,” Jo commented as she took a seat next to him. Dean laughed.

“Got any on you?” he asked, only half-joking. 

“Dean, alcohol is not appropriate to consume on the clock, especially around minors,” Garth interjected. Dean rolled his eyes towards Jo as the guidance counselor was behind his back. 

“I know, Garth,” Dean conceded as the man took a seat next to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine,” he dismissed. Garth gave him a skeptical look, but seemed to let it go. Dean threw another look at Jo when the counselor wasn’t looking. 

“Sorry about having to move up Game Night,” Jo said as she and Dean walked upstairs to their classrooms. 

“It’s fine,” Dean assured her, “more time to recover if Gabriel brings more tequila.” Jo laughed at that and agreed. 

“I almost passed out on my front porch last time,” she said. It was Dean’s turn to laugh as they approached his room. 

“I’ll see you seven,” Dean called as she continued down the hallway towards her own classroom door. One of Dean’s students must’ve thought he had asked her on a date, because the teen offered Dean a high-five on his way into the room. Dean went along with the high-five, his brain not quick enough to realize what it meant at the time. The teacher rolled his eyes when he realized that he basically confirmed his evening plans with a student. He went to his desk to set up his lesson. 

The rest of the day passed easily enough for Dean, and before he knew it, the final bell was ringing loudly throughout the halls. The kids practically ran out of the building, the buzz of a Friday night lingering in the air. 

Dean supposed that moving up game night wasn’t the worst way he could spend his evening. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to his boyfriend. 

_< << Do you mind swinging by the store before Game Night? We ran out of a bunch of stuff today -Dean_

_> >> Can’t. I have a meeting with Principal Shurley about my evals today -Cas_

Dean cursed. He completely forgot Castiel had those today. He hadn’t seen the man since last night when he slid next to him in bed way later than he probably should've. 

_< << Ok. Do you think you’ll have time to throw a load of laundry in when you get home? I ran out of socks this morning -Dean_

_> >> Sure -Cas_

Dean pocketed his cell phone and made his way towards his car. After a quick pit stop at the apartment to change into more comfortable clothes and put his bag away, Dean was off to the store. 

He cursed under his breath when he saw how busy it was. He had to park what felt like miles away from the entrance; the biting cold worsening his mood. He would’ve gone earlier in the week, but he hadn’t realized they were so close to being out of almost everything. 

Not wanting to make another trip to the store in the coming week (the weather was supposed to get truly awful), Dean was diligent and stocked up on everything he thought they might need. The checkout line was absolutely atrocious. Apparently, everyone had the same idea as Dean, and there were only three lanes open in the whole store. Usually, he opted for self-checkout, but he had way too much to go that route this time. 

Dean eventually paid for his items and winced at the number of the screen. Cas was _definitely_ picking up the tab the next time they ate out. He pushed his cart out to his car, his hands nearly freezing to the cheap metal. He loaded up the trunk and pushed the cart into a corral before jumping back into his car to start her up and hopefully return _some_ warmth to his hands. 

He checked the fuel gauge and realized he was approaching empty. He sighed deeply as he thought of the nearest and cheapest gas station. Today was not a good day for his wallet. 

By the time he got home, he was pushing a quarter til seven. It took a little over twenty minutes to get to Charlie’s house, so he resigned himself to being fashionably late. He gathered up all the grocery bags from the trunk and made it up to the apartment in one trip. By the time he laid the bags on the kitchen floor, he was out of breath. That had not been an easy journey. 

He quickly put away all of the items that needed to be refrigerated. After looking at the clock, he figured that he’d let Future Dean deal with putting the rest of the items away. Quickly, he used the restroom before he headed out. He passed through their bedroom and noticed the laundry basket still overflowing. Confused, he walked out to their washer/dryer in the shallow hall closet and cursed when he saw that it had gone unused. Castiel never put in a load. 

“He had _one_ job,” Dean grumbled as he shrugged on his jacket. He also figured Cas had gone ahead and went to Charlie’s house. He glanced at his phone and practically ran to his car when he noticed the time. 

Needless to say, Dean was not in a good mood when he arrived at his coworker’s house. 

“Dean-o,” Gabriel hollered, “nice of you to finally show up!” Dean rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. 

“Yeah, shove it, Gabe,” he countered, toeing off his wet boots. He hung his jacket up and joined everyone in the living room. 

“We nearly started without you, Dean,” Balthazar commented as he took a sip of wine. 

“Yeah, well...I’m here now. What are we playin’?” he asked, trying to keep most of the frustration out of his voice. “Got any beer?” he added. Charlie nodded and gestured towards the fridge. As he grabbed a cold one, Jo stood up and prepared to explain the game to everyone. 

“So, this is basically like charades, but it’s an app on your phone. The guesser holds it up on their forehead as it displays the word they have to guess. The rest of the team has to make that person say whatever is on the screen. If you get it right, just tilt the phone down quickly. If the guesser would like to pass the word, they just tilt the phone up,” she explained. They all nodded; the game was pretty easy to understand. 

“We picked teams right before you showed up, Dean,” Charlie said, “It’ll be you, Jo, and Balthazar against me and those two.” 

Dean nodded and took a swig of his beer. 

“What the fuck is on your socks, bro?” Gabriel asked after noticing Dean’s feet. 

“Uhh...squirrels. Ran out of nice socks this morning,” he explained, casting a glare at his boyfriend. Cas seemed to read the message and had the decency to look at least a little guilty. He covered it by taking a sip of his wine. 

“Ok, since it’s Jo’s game, her team will go first.” 

Jo, Dean, and Balthazar stood up, preparing for the game. They decided to have Balthazar be the first one to guess, so Jo fired up the app on her phone and handed it to him. They agreed on the category of ‘animals’ this round. 

Jo made an absolute fool of herself trying to get Balthazar to guess every word that popped up. Dean, coming off a bad day, was a bit too grumpy to be all that animated. All-in-all, it was a decent first turn, Balthazar correctly guessing seven animals. They handed off the phone to Charlie, and the other team took their places. 

Castiel watched Dean as he sat back down on the couch and pulled at his beer. The English teacher could tell his boyfriend was annoyed...maybe even mad. Cas knew Dean was probably upset with him about the laundry. He had completely forgotten to put in a load when he got home, and he remembered when he was about halfway to Charlie’s house. Dean _definitely_ knew Castiel stole his socks this morning. In his defense, Cas was teaching in front of the principal; he needed those socks more! He still felt pretty bad about it. 

Charlie was able to guess a whopping eleven words correctly, earning some serious smack talk from Gabriel towards Jo’s team. 

But, the smack-talk only seemed to fuel Jo’s fire as she stood up front to guess. She came out of the round matching Charlie’s score of eleven. She handed the phone over to Gabriel, sticking her tongue out in a childish show of pride. Gabriel mocked her back with a stuck-out tongue of his own. Those two really knew how to bring down the mental age of the group. 

Gabriel managed to score six points for his team, handing the phone off to Dean. The physics teacher really didn’t want to do this. He already felt like this group didn’t respect his game-playing skills since he hadn’t been a very great competitor last time. They just needed to play poker or pool, then he could show all of them how it’s done! As it were, he took his spot at the front of the room as Balthazar and Jo tried valiantly to score enough points to stay competitive. 

The app must have sensed that Dean had something to prove, and actively worked against him. He hadn’t even heard of half the animals they were trying to get him to guess! How the hell was he supposed to get ‘gnat’, and was a sea urchin even an animal? He pushed the phone harshly into Castiel’s chest after scoring a pathetic three points. He was ready for this night to be over. 

Castiel grunted when the phone was thrust into him. He tried not to take it too personally, but he knew Dean was mad at him, and the man had just done the worst out of everyone so far. Castiel took his spot and they started the round. He managed to guess nine correctly, giving his team the lead. 

They switched over to the act-it-out category once everyone had the chance to be the guesser for the animal category. Jo’s team had 21 points, while Charlie’s took the early lead with 26. They took a moment to refill their cups and grab some snacks. 

Once they reconvened, they decided that Charlie’s team would kick off this category. It appeared to be a little tougher, Charlie only managing to guess seven before the time ran out. 

“How the hell was I supposed to guess ‘Grape Stomping’ when it looked like you were doing an Irish jig?” the host complained. Gabriel shrugged his shoulders as Castiel was laughing too hard to give her an answer. She wasn’t wrong; they had looked ridiculous. 

Charlie passed off the phone to Balthazar, and the other team took their places. Dean seemed a bit less upset, having had two and half beers now. Together, he and Jo were able to have the brit guess nine words. Dean was more animated this round...at least in his body. They weren’t allowed to talk this round, so he really needed to be physical. He kept a facade of almost boredom...something Castiel liked to label his “grumpy face”. Cas knew Dean was actually enjoying this game, he just wouldn’t show it. 

Balthazar passed it to Gabe, who managed to score eight points. It would’ve been nine, but he accidentally tilted the phone up instead of down, so they had to pass that word even though Gabriel had guessed it. They tried reasoning with the other team to let them have the point anyway, but they would never give Gabriel the satisfaction. Castiel and Charlie realized this fairly quickly and stopped pleading for the point. 

The biology teacher passed the phone to Jo, who won an impressive ten points for her team. Even though Dean was the one who seemed to be helping her guess the best, Castiel could sense that he was still upset about something. That little voice in the back of Cas’ mind crept up again, telling him that he was forgetting something. This time, the English teacher couldn’t blame it on the stress of his upcoming evaluation. He had passed that with flying colors (if his meeting with the principal was anything to go by). 

Jo handed the phone to Castiel as he tried desperately to think of what he might have forgotten. Distracted, Castiel was only able to reign in five points, the lowest score of this round. He shook his head and apologized to his teammates as he handed the phone off to Dean. Castiel sat on the couch and took a sip of his wine. He wanted to be able to drive home, so he had limited himself to the one glass. He was thankful Gabriel hadn’t decided to “bring the party”. Castiel didn’t know if he could stomach tequila tonight. 

Dean took his stance and started the game. Jo and Balthazar had him guess ‘taking a selfie’ and ‘throwing a snowball’ fairly easily, but faltered when they were given ‘acrobatics’. He passed it eventually, and a few words later, ‘birthday’ popped up. 

It clicked instantly in Castiel’s mind as he literally saw what he was forgetting plastered on his boyfriend’s forehead. 

“Oh, fuck!” Castiel swore loudly, almost spilling his drink. Everyone’s attention turned to him as he tried desperately to get the focus on literally anything else. Time ran out before Dean could guess the word, and as he watched the list pop up on the screen, he nodded solemnly when he saw the last word. 

“What the bloody hell was that, Cassie? I demand we get that last point since he distracted us!” Balthazar argued. 

“You didn’t let Gabriel keep that point when he guessed that word, we’re not gonna let you have this one,” Charlie disputed. The teams argued about that for a few seconds before Jo bellowed over them all. 

“Shut up!! Cas, really. What was that about?” The man looked nervously at his friends’ faces, not entirely sure how to explain this to them. 

“I’m sorry...It’s just- I didn’t- I forgot-” he stammered, his eyes finally settling on Dean. “I just remembered today is Dean’s birthday,” he admitted, going with the truth. 

“It’s your birthday?” Charlie practically yelled. 

“And I didn’t even bring any Fireball!” Gabriel complained. Everyone went around wishing Dean a happy birthday, and patting him on the back. Charlie hurried into the kitchen to see if she couldn’t scrounge up something for Dean. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jo asked, “we could’ve brought cake or something.” 

Dean grabbed the back of his neck nervously before replying, “I don’t know. I don’t really celebrate it.” 

Castiel knew that was a big, fat lie. In the four years they’d been dating, Dean’s birthday had always been an _event_. He couldn’t believe he’d just...forgotten about it. He’d been so wrapped up in his evaluation that everything else had been completely pushed out of his mind. He felt like a complete and utter _ass_. 

“Charlie,” Gabriel yelled into the kitchen, “I know you have booze somewhere in this house. Where is it?” He got up to search for it himself, bickering with Charlie in the kitchen. Moments later, he reappeared with a half-empty bottle of blackberry brandy. 

“Where the fuck did you get this?” Dean questioned as the bottle was thrust into his hand. 

“My grandma drinks it,” Charlie explained, “don’t knock it - she’s in her 90s and still going strong.” 

Gabriel rounded up some glasses and brought them into the living room so they could all take a shot in Dean’s honor. Once everyone had a little of the dark purple liquid in their glass, they clinked them together, proclaiming “cheers,” and “to Dean!” 

Everyone scrunched up their faces at the taste. 

“I can still feel it making its way to my stomach,” Balthazar commented. 

“That’s how you know it’s the good stuff,” Gabriel said, eyeing the bottle. Charlie rolled her eyes and the group fell into easy conversation. Luckily, no one asked Castel how _he_ knew it was Dean’s birthday. 

“So how old are ya, Dean-o?” Gabriel asked. 

“Twenty-five,” he answered, “If this is my peak, I’m in trouble,” he joked, earning laughter from everyone in the room. 

“Oh to be twenty-five again,” Balthazar lamented, launching into one of his stories about the shit he pulled when he was becoming an adult. 

Eventually, everyone forgot about the game. No clear winner was declared, but it didn’t really matter. Everyone had a good time just sitting and chatting with one another. By the time midnight rolled around, Balthazar and Jo said their farewells, claiming that they had plans tomorrow they needed to be well-rested for. 

The four that remained talked for about another hour, Gabriel shocking everyone when he was the next to announce it was time to get home. Castiel and Dean figured they ought to head home as well, and they all said their goodbyes. 

Castiel was a wreck on his drive home. He still felt absolutely awful for forgetting Dean’s birthday. He had no clue how to even start making it up to Dean. 

The physics teacher was the first one to make it home, after all, he was famous for his lead foot. Castiel parked his car next to Dean’s, got out, and headed up to their apartment. He took a deep breath before he pushed open the door. Besides the wet boots in the entryway, there seemed to be no sign of Dean in the apartment. The only light on being the one right above the front door. Castiel took his own shoes and jacket off before entering further.

He heard rustling coming from the bedroom, and a moment later, Dean came out, holding the overflowing laundry basket. He looked pissed. 

“Dean,” Castiel started. One cold look his way caused Castiel to stop in his tracks. Dean slowly looked back towards his task as he threw in dirty clothes. The older man sighed and looked towards the kitchen, noticing a bunch of grocery bags strewn across the floor. He got to work putting everything away, trying desperately to think of something - anything - to say to Dean. 

He finished putting away all of the foodstuffs before grabbing the last bag that held toiletry items. He walked into their bathroom and noticed Dean was in the shower. He tried to quickly complete his task, but the water shut off and the birthday boy stepped out before Castiel could retreat into safer territory. 

Dean looked to the empty towel rack and hung his head. 

“Could you grab me a towel?” he asked. Castiel was quick to oblige him, dashing into the bedroom to grab a clean one. Dean took it and dried off. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel said, “I can’t believe I forgot, I-”

“Save it,” Dean interrupted, “I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep.”

“Right,” Castiel said, all of the wind taken out of his sails, “Um...goodnight. Happy birthday. I love you.” 

Dean didn’t comment as he made his way towards their bedroom. He shut the door behind him, and Castiel cursed as he let out a deep sigh. He returned to the kitchen to collect all of the plastic bags and shove them into another plastic bag which he shoved in the cabinet under the sink. 

He went back to the bathroom and showered himself, having to use the slightly damp towel Dean had just used. As he dried off, he heard the timer for the washing machine go off, and he went to throw that load into the dryer. He passed the couch on his way and noticed a pillow and a blanket had been tossed on top of it. 

Castiel cursed again as he realized Dean had banished him to the couch for the night. 

In nothing but a damp towel, Castiel transferred the wet clothes to the dryer and set a timer to put in the next load. It took longer for their clothes to dry, and he didn’t want a load just sitting in the washer as he waited for the dryer. He returned to the bathroom and hung the towel back on the rack, slipping the pair of boxers he’d worn that day back on. He hated doing that, but he had to wear something while he waited for the laundry. 

Castiel was tired, but he wouldn’t let himself fall asleep until all of the laundry was clean and folded. He also did the dishes he had left that morning as he waited. 

It was nearly four in the morning when all the clothes were folded nicely on the freshly cleaned dining table. Castiel had been yawning hard for at least an hour now, and he was ready to fall asleep. He stepped into pajamas first, knowing it would get way too cold alone on that couch. 

Even though he was dead tired, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable on that sofa. It wasn’t exactly designed for a six-foot-tall man to sleep on comfortably. 

\- …. .- - … …. .. - …. ..- .-. - . -..

Dean curled up in the center of the bed, his gaze soft in the direction of the closet. He just wanted to be asleep. He didn’t want to think about the day he’d had, and he didn’t want to think about the day to come. 

Game Night had been ok. He enjoyed spending time with his coworkers and friends, and he had to admit, Jo’s game was actually pretty entertaining...from all perspectives. He just wished he had been in a better mood for it. He knew he wasn’t really enjoying himself, and he hoped he put on a convincing enough face that the others didn’t notice. 

Dean did catch Balthazar looking between Castiel and him, seemingly trying to figure something out. When Castiel had audibly realized that it was Dean’s birthday, Balthazar was the only one that understood the full implications of Castiel forgetting. 

After that, they took a shot of that awful brandy and sat around trading birthday stories. It was actually pretty entertaining, and Dean found himself laughing at more than one of his coworker’s anecdotes. But, every time his eyes wandered to Castiel, he felt a twinge in his chest and had to force himself to look away. 

Dean fell asleep eventually, but his dreams were plagued with negative energy. 

When he woke up, his room was darker than normal. He checked his phone and was shocked that it was already past noon. He checked the weather app and understood why he’d been able to sleep for so long. It was overcast, the threat of snow very prominent. The sun was completely blocked by heavy clouds, casting everything in a gloomy light. 

Just what he needed after yesterday. 

He sighed and pulled the covers off of himself, shivering as the cold air touched his sleep-warm skin. He really should’ve slept in a shirt last night. He quickly got dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt from his alma mater. Padding quietly to the kitchen, he stopped at the dining table stacked with clean clothes and picked out a pair of wool socks. The floor was freezing! 

Dean noticed a Castiel-shaped lump on the couch and silently made his way to the fridge. He was able to make himself a sandwich with minimal noise, choosing to stand at the counter and eat it since the table was overrun with clothes. 

Castiel stirred and Dean cursed; he didn't want to talk about yesterday.

“Good morning Dean,” Castiel greeted from the couch, a yawn taking over the last syllable of the sentence. 

“It’s afternoon,” Dean replied gruffly, taking a large bite of his sandwich. 

“Really? Wow, I haven’t slept in like that in a while,” Cas commented, sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. Dean did not respond, choosing to take the final bite of his sandwich instead. 

“Have any plans for today?” Castiel chanced. Dean shrugged noncommittally and put his dish in the sink. 

“Dean, about yesterday, I-”

“Cas,” he interrupted, “I don’t- not right now.” 

“Please, I want to-”

“No,” Dean barked, a little harsher than he had intended. He raised a hand in front of himself and then let it drop. He looked towards the entryway and announced, “I’m gonna go for a walk.” 

“Dean, it’s like, two degrees outside,” Cas tried to reason. Dean seemed to ignore him, heading to the door and pulling on his boots and jacket. 

“Dean, please. You don’t have to go,” Castiel said, getting up from the couch. Dean was too quick and had pulled the door shut behind him before Cas could stop him. 

As he stepped into the frigid air, he cursed and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He didn’t know where he was going, he just started walking. A million things floated through his mind, but he couldn’t focus on a single thought. He felt as if he were falling into a deep pit inside of his mind. 

He walked distractedly for either ten minutes or two hours...he wasn’t certain. What he did know was that his cheeks and nose were numb, and he could see tiny snowflakes starting to fall down around him. He took in his surroundings and found that he had...no clue where he was. He shrugged and kept walking, taking a turn down another unfamiliar street. 

“Dean,” a voice called out, “is that you? What are you doing? It's bloody freezing out!” 

The physics teacher looked up at the front door of the condominium he was passing and saw his british coworker. 

“Balthazar?” 

“No, it’s your fairy godmother,” he deadpanned, throwing the bag of trash he had in his hand into the dumpster. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Uh...I don’t really know,” Dean said, looking around. 

“Come inside. Your nose looks almost frostbitten,” he offered. Dean complied, finally noticing the chill that started to seep through his jacket and into his bones. 

They rode the elevator up to Balthazar’s place in silence, neither of them quite knowing what to say. As they entered the residence, Balthazar apologized for the mess. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” he said, straightening up a few things, “you can leave your shoes in the entryway.” 

Dean did just that, his body carrying him through the motions. Balthazar went about starting a pot of tea. Once Dean had slipped off his shoes, he moved stiffly to the table towards the back and took a seat. There was a sliding glass door that led out to a private balcony and Dean watched through it as the snowflakes became fatter, denser. 

Balthazar joined him at the table with two steaming cups of...something. Dean thanked the man and wrapped his hands around the mug, letting it warm him up. 

Balthazar took a sip of his and started, “Can I assume this has something to do with yesterday?” Dean looked at his coworker for the first time since he entered the place and sighed. 

“Yeah.” 

“So, he forgot your birthday. Was that it, or…” the brit asked, taking another sip of his tea. Dean laughed bitterly. 

“If only,” he said, finally examining what was inside his cup. He made a face, but kept holding it so his hands could warm up. “Got anything a little stronger?”

Balthazar nodded tentatively and went back to the kitchen; he returned holding a bottle of gin, and one of whiskey. “What’s your poison?”

“Whiskey,” Dean replied. Balthazar nodded and returned to the kitchen to drop off the gin and grab a couple glasses. He poured a heavy hand into each of their glasses and left the bottle on the table. He decided this was the only glass he would have; he did have a date later that night and he didn’t want to show up already drunk. 

“Thanks,” Dean said as he poured the whole glass down his throat. He grabbed the bottle and poured himself another one, slamming that back as well. 

“Woah, slow down there, mate,” Balthazar cautioned. Dean sighed and started staring out the window again. 

“I mean…” Balthazar chanced, “It was just a birthday. I’m sure he made it up to you last night.” 

“He slept on the couch,” Dean replied gruffly, picking up his glass and sipping at it instead of downing it. Balthazar took that as progress. 

“I see.” 

“I’m not really mad about the birthday,” Dean grumbled, eyes still trained on the snow falling outside. A long stretch of silence fell upon them as Balthazar waited patiently for Dean to elaborate. It took draining the rest of his drink, but he did elaborate. 

“My whole day,” he paused to burp, “was shit. And I...I don’t- hey Balthazar?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“This’ll stay between us, right? You won’t tell Cas?” 

“I won’t tell Cas.” 

“Ok. I don’t like talkin’ bad about him, but _jesus_ sometimes he drives me up a fucking wall!” 

Balthazar was shocked to hear Dean say this. Granted, he didn’t know the man very well; he was actually much more acquainted with Castiel, but he gave Dean the room to talk freely. 

“Like...shit, yesterday I tried to have breakfast, right?” he took another swig of whiskey, “and I pull the cereal box outta the cupboard, and it’s empty! Like? C’mon! At least throw away the box!” 

“Yes, I see how that can be annoying. I grew up in a house with five siblings,” Balthazar said, nodding along. 

“Shit. That’s a lotta people,” Dean commented, “But like...it didn’t end with the cereal. I went to go cook eggs, and I open up the carton, and there’s only one fucking thing in there! I’m a grown man, I can’t just have one egg!” At this point, Dean finished what was left of his drink and poured yet another one. Balthazar eyed the bottle warily and wondered if he should take it away from the man. 

“So I say ‘whatever, I’m headin’ to school’ and I leave,” Dean was starting to slur now. “I’s lucky ‘cause someone brought in donuts. And I was scared it’d be empty, but it wasn’t,” he said triumphantly, raising his glass before bringing it to his lips. 

“Yes, Missouri brought those in. She never said why though.”

“Holy shit,” Dean gave a wide-eyed look towards his coworker, “do you think she knew it was my birthday? I swear that woman knows _everything_!” Balthazar had to laugh; it was certainly plausible that Missouri brought in the donuts knowing it was Dean’s birthday. 

“She can be quite intuitive,” Balthazar agreed, finishing his own drink and switching back to his tea. 

“The school day was fine,” Dean said, launching back into his account, “Charlie came up ‘n’ asked me if Game Night could be moved. I kinda thought Cas mighta had somethin’ planned, so I was real sneaky. I said ‘is it cool with everyone else?’” he laughed at his own wit, “she said I was the last person to ask, so obviously Cas didn’t say nothing,” he deduced, finishing his drink and pouring yet another one. Balthazar quickly took the bottle and put it on the floor next to his own chair, out of the other man’s sight. Dean was definitely cut off. 

“He seemed rather distracted that morning. I think he was stressed about his evaluation.” 

“Yeah, his fuckin’ _evaluation_ ,” Dean said, mocking the last word, “you know we haven’t had sex in a _week_ because of that stupid fucking thing?” he complained. Then, his eyes widened in horror as he realized what had just escaped his lips. He turned sharply to Balthazar and said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’a said that. You didn’t need to know that.”

“It’s quite alright, Dean,” Balthazar assured. 

“Well, yeah. So the day passes, and I’m like…laundry needs- oh yeah! The fucking- you saw my dumbass socks last night! Squirrels? What the hell? Anyway, I planned-I fucking _counted_ the socks I had left for the week to make _sure_ I had black socks ‘til Friday. Well, I wake up, the whole breakfast fiasco happens, and I change to leave and there’s no fucking socks left!” Dean rambled. “He stole my fucking socks!” 

Balthazar laughed, his coworker seemingly quite worked up about his clothing. 

“And like...ok, I get it. You gotta teach for the principal...it’s fine, take my socks, I get it. But after school, I’m like...we gotta do laundry, and we’re outta fucking food. So I text him, I ask if he can swing by the store before Game Night. He says ‘no. gotta talk to Chuck’ and nothing else. I’m like fuck, ok, I can grab the groceries. I ask him if he could at least throw one load in before he left for Charlie’s. He said yeah, he can do that,” Dean paused to sip his drink and stare out at the steady snowfall out the window. 

It took a moment, but Dean continued, “So I go and I shop and I get everything ‘cause it’s supposed to snow like it is right now and I didn’t know when the next time we’d be able to go to the store. It’s fine,” he said, slurring heavier each minute. Balthazar cursed himself that he didn’t cut Dean off sooner. “But I’m in the store for like two fucking hours. Everyone and their _mom_ is there, and only three lanes to check out are even open! So it’s fine, whatever, I get everything in my car and I start her up, and she’s fuckin’ runnin’ on empty. I’m like “fuck”, and I go fill her up. By the time I get home, I’m already late to Charlie’s. I put away the cold shit and run to use the bathroom. On my way out, I notice ain’t no fuckin’ load of laundry got put in!” 

Balthazar nodded solemnly along at Dean’s account of his day. He felt bad for the man. Truth be told, he could sense the tension between the couple at Charlie’s house, and he spent most of the evening trying to pinpoint the cause. When Castiel had his little outburst, he understood. Well, he thought he had understood. Apparently, Dean had been coming off a much worse day than he originally thought. 

“Ah, I see. So the birthday really wasn’t the problem, it was just the icing on the cake...pardon my analogy,” Balthazar said. Dean waved off the joke and finished his drink. Balthazar knew he was looking for where the bottle had disappeared to, but Dean didn’t bring it up. He returned his gaze to the window. 

“Yeah. Yesterday just kinda fuckin’ sucked,” Dean lamented. They sat in silence for a while, stewing in everything Dean had just unloaded. 

“I’m sure Castiel feels terrible about it,” Balthazar suggested, trying to paint things in a lighter tone. 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, “I think he does feel bad, but I don’t think he knows alla that.”

“All of what?”

“The...other shit. Like, I made a jab at him over the socks at Charlie’s, and he looked guilty about it. And like...I’m really not even mad about the socks. I’m not! He needed them more. It was just everything else. The breakfast, and the shopping, and the not doing laundry, and forgetting my birthday! Who forgets their boyfriend’s fucking _birthday_?” Dean bellowed. Balthazar nodded solemnly as he thought of what to say next. 

Minutes passed between the two, neither saying anything to break it. They both gazed out the window, watching the thick snowflakes blanket the outside world. It was a rather peaceful moment. Balthazar hadn’t sat down like this in a long time. 

The inside of Dean’s mind was going in a million different directions, too fast for his alcohol-laden brain to grasp on to. He sat there, letting thoughts float by him as he watched the wind push the snow around outside. He felt a little bit like one of those flakes, being pushed around, just waiting to settle somewhere. 

“He did the laundry,” Dean said a few minutes later, much quieter now, “last night, he stayed up and did it. It was all folded on the dining room table and everything. Stayed up real late to do it.” 

“Well that’s good,” Balthazar agreed. 

They sat in silence again. Dean staring at the contents of his mug, but never making a move to drink it. Balthazar safely deduced that Dean was not a tea-drinker. He filed that away in case he ever found the man roaming the streets like a lost dog again. 

“I should go home,” Dean announced, “I think he’s suffered enough. That couch is way too small to sleep on,” Dean chuckled, standing up, but needing to lean on the table to support himself. 

“Ok,” Balthazar said, standing up to assist his coworker, “let me drive you home.” Dean broke out into uproarious laughter as Balthazar eyed him skeptically. He hadn’t told a joke, had he?

“Good, ‘cause I have no clue where I am,” Dean chuckled, “Can I use your can? I think I had a little too much.” 

“Be my guest. It’s the door at the end of the hall there,” Balthazar directed. While his guest was using the facilities, he rounded up their glasses and placed them in the sink. He put the (considerably lighter) bottle of whiskey back in his liquor cabinet. Dean finished up and they made their way down to the garage. 

As they made the quick drive back to Dean’s place, they noticed the snow starting to come down heavier and pile up on the ground. Balthazar’s anti lock brakes kicked in at one of the stop signs and he nearly slid through it. 

“Bollocks. I’m probably going to have to cancel my date tonight,” he thought out loud. 

“Oh shit, you had a date?” Dean piped up. Balthazar confirmed so, but didn’t offer any more details. Dean was too far gone in the passenger seat to ask any followup questions. Balthazar had a fleeting thought that he might never see Dean in his passenger seat _sober_. 

When they pulled up to the building, Dean stuck out his hand for Balthazar to shake, “Thanks for listening to me, man. I just needed to yell about it a little bit. ‘M sorry I drank your booze. I can make it up to you,” he apologized. 

“Don’t mention it,” Balthazar said, “now go make up with that sexy boyfriend of yours before I steal him away from you.” Dean chuckled. 

“Nah, he’s stuck with me for the long haul. I love his dumb ass too much for my own good,” Dean admitted. He’d never said anything like that out loud before, and he quickly made his exit before his loose tongue could admit any more embarrassing things. 

Dean shoved his key into the lock, slightly stumbling into the entryway before taking off his boots and jacket. 

“Where have you been?” Castiel asked, obviously worried, “the snow is really coming down now, I kept imagining you in a ditch somewhere just-” Dean cut him off by wrapping his arms around Cas’ neck. Castiel hugged back immediately, burying his face in Dean the crook of Dean’s neck. 

“Why do you smell like a bar?” 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, not exactly answering Cas’ question. 

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I totally ruined your birthday,” Castiel admitted. Dean tried to wave him off, but Cas was insistent, “I stole your socks and I ate your breakfast, and I forgot to do laundry and I forgot your _birthday_! What kind of man am I to forget my boyfriend’s birthday?!” 

Dean chuckled softly, remembering he said something similar not too long ago. 

“I was an ass yesterday. I deserve to sleep on the couch for a week.” 

“You most certainly will not be doing that. I was way too cold when I woke up this morning. I should’ve known better than to banish my personal heater in the middle of winter.” 

“Oh, so I’m just your personal heater?” Castiel joked. 

“Why else would I keep you around? To do laundry?” 

“Alright.”

“What? Too soon?”

“Yes, Dean. Too soon.” 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, leaning in to give his boyfriend a much needed kiss on the mouth. 

“Me too,” Castiel said, “now let’s go dirty up those clean sheets,” he suggested with a wink. Dean smirked and followed Cas into the bedroom. 

It had been over a week since they’d been intimate, after all. Dean just prayed he didn’t overdo it with the whiskey at Balthazar’s place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think...too soon? XD


	7. Scheming and Plotting

“You’re insane,” Jo whisper-yelled at Charlie as they made their way out of the building and into the parking lot. It was a chilly January afternoon, and if the weather reports were anything to go by, it was only going to get worse. 

“I’m a genius,” Charlie shot back, quickly making her way over to Castiel’s car. Jo threw a worried glance over her shoulder as they approached the lime green vehicle. Charlie popped the hood open and stared at the various things and doohickeys. 

“I watched a youtube video. All we have to do is pull out one thingy and he’ll be stranded,” Charlie assured her partner-in-crime. Jo gave a hesitant look, but didn’t do anything to stop her friend. 

“I don’t know. What if you really mess up his car?” Jo asked. 

“I won’t. And you have to do your part, too. This won’t work if your end falls through.” 

“I think I can distract Dean for a few minutes,” Jo bit back petulantly. They’d all gotten to be pretty decent friends over their Game Nights and daily lunches. She could stall him for a few minutes no problem. 

“Good. Then this is practically fool-proof,” Charlie said, still staring at all the parts under the hood. 

“You need to watch that video again, don’t you?” Jo asked, already pulling out her phone. 

… .- -... --- - .- --. . 

Castiel packed up his things and made his way towards the parking lot. After reaching his car, he shivered as he unlocked the door and hopped inside. Turning the key in the ignition, his car started making very curious noises. 

“What the hell?”

He tried turning his key again, but the car wouldn’t start. It just kept making that weird noise. 

“Fuck!” 

He got out of his car to examine his engine...as if he knew what the problem would be. He was an English teacher, not a mechanic. Still, he got out and popped his hood. 

“Everything ok?” Jo asked. She was standing with Dean near his car, chatting about the upcoming standardized tests the kids were about to be subjected to. Castiel looked up and had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. This could not be a coincidence. 

“Uh, my car appears to be...broken,” he replied, squinting at the inner-workings of his car.

“Oh no!” she said, scrunching her eyebrows together, seemingly trying to find a solution for her coworker. As soon as an idea popped into her head, she turned to face Dean. 

“Dean, didn’t you say you used to work at your uncle’s repair shop in high school? Could you maybe help Castiel out with his car?” she suggested. At this point, Dean had caught on as well, sighing at the obvious set-up. He made eye contact with Castiel and walked over to the car. 

“Let me take a look. See what I can do,” he said. Jo followed him, apparently wanting a show. Well, if she wanted a show, who was Dean to deny her of one? He positioned himself in front of the car and bent at the waist to ‘examine the engine’ more closely. He heard Castiel clear his throat and knew his boyfriend was staring at his ass. 

“What was the problem?” Dean asked, still bent over, but now arching his back so he could look over his shoulder. 

“Uhh,” Castiel’s brain short-circuited for a moment as he tried to compose himself. Dean was playing dirty. “I turned my key in the ignition, but it just made a weird noise,” he explained. 

“Huh,” Dean replied, checking over what the problem might be. He spotted it pretty quickly; someone had removed Castiel’s spark plugs. And by someone, he had a pretty good suspicion that it was either Jo or Charlie. Had they really resorted to car trouble? 

“Well,” Dean said, “looks like you won’t be driving home.” 

“What? Why?” Jo asked, like she was the one who was affected by all this. The boys both gave her a look, and she shut up. Dean decided to have a little fun with the girls. 

“The engine looks pretty messed up. It’s going to be quite expensive to fix. Unless you have an extra camshaft pulley or head gasket lying around…” he asked, knowing neither of them knew what he was talking about. Jo looked worried and bit at her bottom lip. Castiel caught on to Dean’s game and suppressed a smirk. 

“It’s going to be expensive? I-I don’t have the money right now,” Castiel made his voice quiver as he choked out, “My student loans are piling up, and I-I just told my brother I’d help him out to have that knee surgery that would finally get him out of that wheelchair. I guess I have to call him back and tell him I can’t help anymore,” he lamented. Dean thought Cas was laying it on a little too thick, but one look at Jo told him that she was eating up his totally bogus story. 

The woman swallowed thickly and bolted towards the school entrance. She practically ran up the stairs into Charlie’s classroom. She relayed the story in hysterics. 

“And now his brother has to stay in a wheelchair!” Jo practically cried to Charlie. 

“Shit, shit, shit! I-I followed the instructions! It’s not supposed to be an expensive fix!” Charlie defended, “Dean was just supposed to give him a ride! What have I done?” 

The women looked at each other worriedly. 

-.. ..- -- …. 

Once Jo had disappeared, the men started cracking up. 

“What the hell is a camshaft?” Castiel asked. 

“Since when do you have a wheelchair-bound brother?” Dean asked right back. Castiel shrugged as they continued to laugh. 

“So what’s the actual problem?”

“Your spark plugs have mysteriously gone missing,” he divulged, “hop in my car and I can drive us home. Quick, while no one’s watching,” Dean said, closing the hood. Castiel grabbed his stuff out of his car, locked it, and followed Dean to the impala. 

The physics teacher peeled out of the parking lot before they could be seen together. 

…. . .-.. .--. 

“I’m telling you, those girls are playing dirty, and I won’t stand for it,” Gabriel declared. Balthazar rolled his eyes as he continued setting up his classroom for the day. 

“This is why you don’t make bets on love,” the brit pointed out. Gabriel scoffed and continued pacing the room. 

“You gotta help me out. The girls rigged it so Dean had to give Castiel a ride the other day. We have to even the playing field!” 

“And what exactly do you expect _me_ to do about it?”

“You’ve gotta up your flirting with Cassie,” Gabriel told him, “you barely did that at all last game night! What happened? I thought we were a team!” 

Balthazar shook his head. He couldn’t tell Gabriel the real reason he backed off of Castiel. If Gabriel knew Dean and Cas were already a thing, he’d lose his mind! The French teacher thought about his options. Gabriel had stopped pacing and was now planted in front of Balthazar’s desk, not-so-patiently awaiting an answer. Balthazar sighed. 

“I was just distracted that night. I suppose I can recommence my flirtations,” he conceded, “now get out of my classroom, the bell is about to ring.” 

-.-. .-. ..- -. -.-. …. - .. -- . 

“You most definitely _cannot_ commence your flirtations,” Dean argued, wiping down his white board. 

“Dean,” Balthazar insisted, “it’s going to look suspicious if I just...what’s the phrase in America?...cease and desist.”

“Just...tell people you’re in a relationship,” Dean suggested. He put the eraser down and took a deep breath. It wasn’t like Balthazar was asking for his first-born. He was lucky enough that his coworker hadn’t ended the little ruse he and Cas were maintaining for...God how long has this been going on? Five months?? He couldn’t tell Castiel that he blew it after the very first game night, he’d never hear the end of it! And they had discussed the benefits of Cas leaning into Balthazar’s flirtations. He just hated when Castiel flirted back! Those soft smiles and gentle laughs were reserved for _Dean_ , goddamnit! 

“Dean, I’m willing to keep your little secret, but I am _not_ getting that involved. If I say I’m seeing someone, everyone else will demand details. I, of course, would have to provide those details in order to not look suspicious. If this whole scheme takes too much longer, I’m going to have to invite my _copain_ to game night so everyone can embarrass me infront of them. And I told you, I am not getting that involved,” Balthazar explained. 

Dean sighed once more. They really had been dragging this out for quite some time. He had an idea on how to end it so that everyone who had bet on them (for or against) would eat their words. He just needed a little extra time. And he couldn’t have Balthazar flirting with his boyfriend.

Balthazar, with his back facing the door, was unaware of one of their coworkers walking down the hallway. Dean, however, saw this as an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. 

“A girlfriend?” Dean asked rather loudly. Balthazar stared at him and lifted an eyebrow. “I’m happy for you, Balthazar! I know you’ve been looking for someone to fill your time,” Dean went on, a look between pleading and triumph warring across his face. 

As if on cue, Charlie popped her head into the classroom. 

“Did I hear that Balthazar has a girlfriend?” Charlie asked. If looks could kill, Dean would’ve been turned to dust by the icy blue eyes that bore into him. He ignored it, and elected to go along with what was surely a death sentence. 

“Yeah, some chick named...what was it, Balthazar?”

The brit’s jaw clenched as he thought about how to respond. He could very well throw Dean under the bus and end the whole shit-show that has been plaguing him for the past few months. He was about to do just that when he saw something in Dean’s eyes. He took a deep breath. 

“Faith,” he supplied, “her name is Faith.” 

“Oh. My. Gosh!!!” Charlie squealed, “How long have you been dating? What does she look like? Is she funny? Where does she work? Tell me e v e r y t h i n g !” the redhead demanded. Balthazar shot one last long-suffering look towards Dean as he ushered Charlie out of the room. 

“Let’s grab a cuppa, I’ll tell you all about her,” he said, offering his arm for Charlie to take. Once the pair had left, Dean let out a long breath. He was in deep shit now.

It was crunch time. 

.--. . … -.- -.-- .--. .-. --- -. --- ..- -. … 

_> >> You’re a dead man, Mr. Winchester - Balthazar_

Dean read the text and grimaced. It was a pretty awful move, but Dean needed a viable reason as to why Balthazar would abruptly stop flirting with Castiel, other than the fact that the man knew the object of his flirtation was in a relationship...with Dean. 

“What’s that face about?” Castiel asked as he slid behind Dean and slipped his hands into his boyfriend’s pockets. 

“Uhh, nothing. The recipe I was looking at called for green peppers,” he explained. 

“Since I have to share the same bathroom with you, I would agree on vetoing anything with green peppers.” 

“How was work?” Dean asked. Castiel stepped back from Dean and walked in the direction of their bedroom. 

“It was alright,” he said, disappearing into the hallway. Dean pocketed his phone and gathered up the ingredients for spaghetti. He also preheated the oven so they could have fresh-baked rolls. 

Castiel re-emerged from the bedroom, now wearing a pair of lounge pants and, “is that my shirt?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes. He tried to look displeased, but Cas knew better than that. 

The English teacher looked down as if he were surprised he was wearing it. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“Maybe,” he replied. Dean rolled his eyes and continued preparing dinner. 

“I did hear something interesting on my way out of school,” Castiel said, hopping up to sit on the counter. 

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Apparently, Balthazar has started seeing someone,” Castiel divulged. Dean had the presence of mind to look surprised. 

“Really? Someone was able to hold his attention?” 

Castiel rolled his eyes, “you act like he’s some sort of serial-dater. To the best of my knowledge, he’s been single the entire time we’ve been here.” Dean shrugged and continued cooking. 

“Did you hear anything else about her?” Dean asked. 

“Her?” Castiel narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Dean would think it was adorable if he hadn’t just blurted out the pronoun. Castiel was still unaware that Balthazar knew about Dean and his relationship. 

“Oh, is it...not...a girl? I don’t know I just kind of assumed,” Dean brushed off, busying himself around the kitchen. 

“He’s been openly flirting with me. And I am a guy. And I know _you_ know I’m a guy...especially after last night,” Castiel commented cheekily. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, Cas, you’re very well-endowed,” Dean appeased sarcastically, “I guess I still just automatically assume people are straight. Probably inherited that from my dad,” he replied, hoping that bringing up his father would put an end to this conversation. They did not get along growing up, and the famous John Winchester was a huge sore spot at the beginning of Dean and Cas’ relationship. 

The English teacher nodded solemnly and slid up behind Dean, wrapping the man in a hug. 

“It is a girl. Her name is Faith. She’s blonde. That’s about all I overheard,” Castiel said into Dean’s shoulder. They stood there for a moment, swaying slightly. Cas kissed the back of Dean’s neck and took a step back. 

“How long til supper? Enough to take a shower?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Dean said, grabbing the box of pasta and pouring it into the pot. He heard the door to their bathroom close and let out a deep breath. He needed to get his plan set in motion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone's starting to feel the pressure!
> 
> Also, expect this little story to wrap up by early next week! :D


	8. Good Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that "light angst" I put in the tags...?

“Gabriel Kokopelli I hope you have an updated life insurance policy, because I _swear-_ ” Charlie stormed into her coworker’s classroom. The man in question turned towards the ruckus, a spoon of yogurt halfway to his mouth. 

“And what’s this about?”

“Your stupid prank!”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Gabriel answered, turning his attention back to his yogurt. Charlie let out a low growl. 

“My _lab!_ ” Charlie shouted. Gabriel looked around the room as if he were trying to remember what he had done in her lab. And oh god, what did it mean that he had to _think about_ what she was talking about?

“To be clear, we’re talking about the computers, right?” he asked. Charlie scowled at him. 

“When did you even have the _time_ to recode every _single_ computer in my lab?” Charlie asked. Gabriel laughed in recognition. 

“Oh, Chuckles, a magician never reveals his secrets,” Gabriel responded.

“You’re not a magician, you’re a high school biology teacher,” she shot back. Gabriel scoffed. 

“In this economy? You can’t tell me you don’t have a side hustle.” 

“This isn’t about my employment, I came in here to kick your ass!” Charlie said, “it’s gonna take me my entire lunch break just to undo your stupid mess!” 

“Have your honors class fix it! You’ve got ‘em next hour don’t you?” he suggested. Charlie nearly went along with it until she spotted the smirk Gabriel couldn’t quite keep off his face. 

“Oh, no. Is there more?? What was gonna happen if I had them fix it?” She asked hysterically, heading towards the door, “Gabriel?!?” she half-questioned, half-threatened as she went back to her own classroom. 

The biology teacher chuckled to himself and propped his feet up on the desk. His life was awesome. 

.-. . … -.-. . -.. ..- .-.. . 

“Hey Charlie?” Jo popped her head into her coworker’s classroom on her way down to lunch. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Charlie said, furiously typing at one of the computers towards the front of the room. 

“Uh, I wanted to talk about the next game night,” she said. Charlie scrunched her eyebrows and looked up. 

“The next one won’t be for a couple weeks. I’m redoing my front porch,” she reminded her friend. 

“Oh, yeah, I know,” she said, biting the inside of her lip nervously. 

“Ok, so what did you want to talk about?” the redhead asked, sliding over to the next computer and typing away at that one. 

“Um...it’s my mom,” she revealed. At that, Charlie ceased typing and shot her eyes up to lock on Jo’s. 

“Is everything ok?”

“Not...really. It looks like they’re going to have to go ahead on the surgery. And she can’t work for like six months after that, and so she can’t...run the bar. I just...the money. For the bet. I think I need to bow out,” Jo explained. Charlie frowned. 

“What about this weekend? I can have you guys come in through the back! If our plan doesn’t work out by then, we can call it,” Charlie suggested. Jo hesitated and Charlie added, “If we win, that’s more money in your pocket!” 

“Yeah, but what if we lose?”

“I’ll cover your debt,” Charlie said. Jo shook her head. 

“No, I can’t let you do that,” Jo protested. 

“Please,” she said, “you helped me with my mom...let me repay the favor,” she insisted. Jo sighed.

“This weekend?”

“This weekend.” 

..-. .- …- --- .-. 

“Wait, I thought she was redoing her porch!” Dean said as he packed his bag. Balthazar wiped his hand down his face. He never should’ve gone along with this bloke’s hairbrained scheme. 

“She is. Apparently, we are to enter through the backdoor,” at Dean’s childish snort, Balthazar leveled him a glare. Dean schooled his features quickly. 

“Ok...uh, well…Saturday? That only gives me like three days. I’m not sure-”

“Dean,” he interrupted, “Charlie is also insisting that I bring my new girlfriend.”

“Tell her no!” 

“Oh, wow, I hadn’t thought of that!” Balthazar bit back. “Have you _met_ Charlie?” 

“I’m just saying, you don’t have to bring anyone to game night. That would throw off the numbers, anway,” Dean argued. 

“She said she was going to invite Jody to even it out,” Balthazar said. 

“Jody would never voluntarily be in the same place as Gabriel,” Dean pointed out. 

“I’m sure Charlie knows more people if Jody says no. And if Charlie invites someone else and then _I_ don’t show up with a date, we have the same numbers problem!”

“Just...tell Charlie your girlfriend is busy this weekend!” Balthazar glared at him, “I...I’ll, I’ll get it done. At game night. Just...don’t add any more people. You don’t have to bring some random chick. But I do have a favor or two to ask you.” 

\--- ..- - .-.. .- - . 

On Friday, the last thing he needed for game night was supposed to be solidified, but when he showed up, he hit a snag, causing him to come home much later than he had anticipated. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if he hadn’t also come home late the last two nights. 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean yelled out as he entered their apartment, shrugging off his jacket and unlacing his boots. “Sorry I’m late, I was-” Dean’s explanation died on his tongue as he took in the sight before him. 

Castiel sat at the dining table, the only light coming from the single bulb fixture overhead. The English teacher had spread a white cloth over the table, and two plates were set across from one another. The plate in front of Castiel was empty, the man having eaten without Dean. There were also two glasses of wine, and a single rose in a skinny vase. 

“You said you’d be home by seven,” Castiel said, staring not at Dean, but at his own empty plate. 

“I-I’m sorry. I just got held up and-and...I’m sorry,” Dean stammered. Castiel lifted his glass to his lips and held the liquid in his mouth for a while before swallowing. 

“This is the third night in a row you’ve told me you’ve gotten ‘held up’ somewhere,” Cas pointed out, using honest-to-god air quotes. He finally looked up at Dean, who resembled a deer in headlights. They stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Castiel waved his arm in the direction of the chair in front of him. 

“Sit,” Cas instructed, “eat,” Dean stiffly walked over to the table and took a seat. It felt a little bit like a trap. He discreetly searched his food for anything that might look suspicious. Dean decided that it was safe and took his first bite. It was cold, but still good nonetheless. They sat in a tense silence, Dean eating while Castiel finished his glass of wine. It was anyone’s guess as to how many glasses he had drunk in the time it took Dean to get home. 

“Look, I’ll get straight to the point,” Castiel started, never the one for small talk, “Have you been speaking with your father again?”

Dean gave Castiel a questioning look. “My dad? Why would I be talking to him?” Castiel’s jaw tensed. He took a deep breath. 

“So you haven’t contacted him?” 

“No, Cas, I haven’t talked to my dad,” Dean insisted, “why do you even think I would?” Castiel looked off to the side, piecing together his next sentence. Dean took another bite of his cold food. 

“We haven’t, uh,” Castiel cleared his throat, “haven’t been intimate in a while.”

“It’s been like...a week!” Dean pointed out, “less than that. The day after my birthday.” 

“And you were drunk.”

“So? Cas, I was mad. I had a few drinks. I got over it. What is this about?” 

Castiel looked off to the side again, busying himself by pouring another glass of wine. Dean really didn’t like how it took Cas so long to say what was on his mind. He just wished the man would spit it out. 

Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’ hand, bringing the man’s attention to him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, silently asking Castiel to go on. 

“It’s just,” Castiel took a deep breath and had to look away from Dean, “this is...how you acted with-...in college,” Cas said, not sure he could say much more while keeping his resolve. Dean knitted his eyebrows together for a moment before figuring out what Castiel was trying to say. He pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair. He swallowed thickly. 

“This is _not_ that,” Dean asserted. Cas opened his mouth to say something, but cut it off in his throat. Dean audibly scoffed at the self-censorship. “If you’ve got something to say, Cas, spit it out.” Castiel remained silent. He wouldn’t be goaded into saying something he would regret later. He was fairly even-keeled, and he knew how to control his temper. 

“You asked if I was talking to my old man again,” Dean reiterated. At Castiel’s off look, he continued, “you think this is like college? You think I haven’t grown up since then, Cas?”

“That’s not-”

“No. You think I let him say something about you. About my life choices,” Dean stated. Castiel closed his eyes. This isn’t exactly how he saw this conversation going. 

“Dean-” 

“Cas, I haven’t spoken to that piece of shit in years.”

“Dean-” 

“Why would I even want to? His shitty fucking advice nearly stopped me from even going to college. From getting out of that shitty neighborhood. From ever meeting you in the first place!” Dean was raising his voice now, offended that Castiel would even bring the man up. “I already paid for his shit, Cas. I thought we were done with that.” 

“We are. I didn’t mean to-I...I’m sorry, Dean. It’s just...I’m getting a sense of deja vu and I really don’t want to go through that again.”

“And _I_ do??” Dean shot back. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Castiel said, a tinge of anger lining his voice. Their eyes met again and they stared at each other for a long time, a silent conversation carrying on between the two. Cas could tell Dean was getting more agitated by the second. 

“So what, we don’t fuck and I’m automatically back to letting my dad tell me who I _should_ be fucking?” Dean asked crassly. 

“Seriously, Dean?” they stared at each other for another long moment. “Excuse me for worrying about our relationship. I don’t want it to get like that again.”

“And _I do?_ ” Dean repeated, slower, angrier. 

“Obviously I made a wrong assumption.”

“Pshh, ya think?” Castiel let that one go, for the sake of the breakable items on the table. 

“I’m not having this conversation if you’re going to do that,” Castiel stated, standing up and heading to the bedroom. 

Dean let out a deep breath and the tension bled out of his shoulders. He looked in the direction of their bedroom and finished his food halfheartedly before clearing everything off the table. He knew he was acting kinda shady, but he wasn’t cheating on Cas. He’d have to be the absolute dumbest piece of shit on Earth to do that...again. And he fucking paid for the first time! It wasn’t fair that Castiel got to bring it up whenever he thought things weren’t perfect. Dean had grown up a lot since then, and he didn’t deserve to have it thrown back in his face. 

After washing the dishes, he headed towards their bedroom. When he entered, he found Cas sitting on the bed, reading a book. The man didn’t look up at him. Dean walked through the room to their bathroom. He took a quick shower and brushed his teeth, stalling as he thought of how to resolve this. And he needed to resolve this tonight. Tomorrow was game night. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean started, going over to his drawer to put on some pajamas. Castiel looked up briefly, but returned his attention to his book. Dean pulled an old t-shirt over his head and sat at the foot of the bed, reaching out to put a hand on Cas’ ankle that was hidden under the covers.

Castiel put his bookmark on the page he was reading and set the book down on the nightstand. He looked at Dean, who was watching his own thumb move soothingly up and down Cas’ ankle. Cas relished the touch, finding himself _trying_ to be annoyed with the fact that even when he was mad at Dean, the man’s touch still calmed him down. Castiel sighed. 

“I shouldn’t have brought up your dad,” he admitted, “that was...I don’t even know what that was. I guess I just still feel bad about forgetting your birthday-”

“Cas, don’t. It’s-you had other-”

“No, Dean, it was awful of me. And I guess I was just feeling a bit insecure, and then you kept staying out late, and I thought that it was because you were still mad at me,” Castiel explained. Dean shifted a little further up the bed, placing his hand just above Cas’ knee. 

“Hey, I’m not mad at you,” Dean assured him. 

“But you just said at dinner-”

“I _was_ mad. Past tense.”

Castiel looked away, just wanting whatever weird funk that clouded them to clear out. He thought a nice, romantic dinner would do the trick, but when Dean came home late again, he just couldn’t help but think that this was his fault. 

“Hey,” Dean said gently, crawling even further up the bed. He cupped the side of Cas’ face so the man would look at him. Dean leaned in and brushed their lips together. “I’m not mad at you,” he reassured the man. Castiel raised his hand to cover Dean’s and leaned in, capturing those perfect pink lips in a long, unhurried kiss. 

Dean was surprised when he went to lean back, but Castiel kept him close, gripping his hand to keep it against his face. He kissed Dean again, this time with more passion. Dean got the message and eagerly kissed back, leaning forward until Cas’ back returned to the headboard. The physics teacher swung a leg over so he could sit in his boyfriend’s lap as they continued to trade increasingly heated kisses. Castiel even nipped at Dean’s bottom lip, eliciting a low growl from the man. 

Dean pulled back slightly and Cas whimpered at the loss. Dean loved it when he did that. He didn’t make Castiel guess at what he was doing, grabbing the hem of his own shirt and lifting it off his body. Those blue eyes raked over the form in front of him, causing Dean to blush under the attention. Castiel smirked at the pink tint on his boyfriend’s ears. 

Dean didn’t take long divesting Castiel of his own shirt, tossing it to the side before diving back in to claim his lips once more. Cas pulled back and bared his neck, inviting Dean to do with it what he pleased. Dean smirked and peppered kisses along Cas’ jaw, down his neck - stopping briefly to nibble at his pulse point, but not enough to leave a mark - finally arriving at Cas’ beautiful collar bone. He sucked hard at the skin there, Cas’ hands trying to find purchase in his shortly cropped hair. 

Once Dean was satisfied he pulled back and asked Cas, “How do you want to do it?” The English teacher blushed and looked off to the side. Dean caught his cheek and returned his attention to those green eyes. “Don’t get shy with me.” 

Castiel seemed to think about it before responding, “Like this, but...I’m in your lap.” Dean smiled and nodded, leaning over to grab the lube out of the nightstand. He tossed it on the other side of Cas before backing up so he could pull Castiel’s pajamas down. Dean pulled slowly, teasing Castiel with a hint of nails dragging down his skin. 

Dean could see his boyfriend’s excitement tenting his boxers. He pulled those down as well, Cas’ dick springing out from under the cotton fabric. Dean threw the underwear carelessly on the floor, positioning himself so he could kiss Cas’ stomach, hips, inner thighs. His wet kisses left a trail of sensitive skin to the cold air. 

“Dean,” Cas whimpered, head thrown back against the headboard. Dean wasted no time, grabbing Castiel’s cock and licking one long, slow stripe up the underside before sucking at the tip, causing the man above him to let out a deep moan. The noises only encouraged Dean, who took Cas in deeper, bobbing his head as he moved up and down. His hand pumped what wasn’t in his mouth as he set a steady rhythm, slowing down every once in a while to pay attention to the tip and flick his tongue teasingly over Cas’ leaking slit. 

All too soon, Dean pulled off, shifting so he could remove his own pants which were now becoming uncomfortably tight. Once freed, he returned to Castiel’s lips, kissing them slow as he reached around for the lube he’d tossed on the bed. He located it and coated his fingers, never removing his lips from Castiel. 

Cas must not have noticed what Dean was doing while they were kissing, because he jumped when he felt Dean’s finger press against his hole. He realized what was happening and huffed a laugh. Dean slowly pushed in his index finger, the tight ring of muscle resisting the intrusion. 

“Relax, baby,” Dean whispered into Cas’ mouth. Cas nodded and willed his muscles to soften. Dean pushed his finger in all the way to the third knuckle. Castiel relaxed around him, gently moving his hips as he got used to the sensation. Dean pulled out and pushed in his finger, marveling at Cas’ body as his digit disappeared into it. 

At Cas’ pleading, he added his middle finger, his boyfriend hissing at the burning sensation. Dean captured his lips again and swallowed Castiel’s moan as he started pumping his fingers in and out, spreading them just slightly so his tight hole could accommodate all of Dean.

Castiel buried his face into Dean’s shoulder when the man added a third finger. His throat making noises on its own volition. He knew Dean liked it when he was vocal, and damn did he enjoy when Dean was confident. 

Too soon, Dean pulled his fingers out completely, and repositioned himself. He guided Cas’ hips up as he knelt in front of the man, allowing Cas to sit back down on Dean’s thighs. Dean lined himself up and teased Cas’ tight ring of muscle, dragging his tip across the sensitive skin. 

Eventually, Dean ceased his teasing and lined up. Castiel inched down on Dean’s dick, breathing through the burn of being so utterly full. Once Cas’ ass was seated on Dean’s thighs, they stilled for a moment, adjusting to the position. Slowly, Castiel started moving his hips, pulling off an inch or two before grinding back down. Dean guided him with two strong hands on his sides, practically lifting him as he helped Cas move up and down. 

Castiel’s arms were draped on Dean’s shoulders, tightening as they moved together. Cas pressed himself against Dean as he bounced up and down, his cock trapped between them. From this angle, Dean wasn’t able to do much beyond kneel there and enjoy the ride - which he did...thoroughly. Cas was angelic like this, moving above him and taking so much pleasure from his cock. 

Cas’ chest was right in front of Dean, so he leaned forward and kissed and licked every inch he could reach. One of his hands slid up from Cas’ side to right underneath his armpit; Dean’s thumb reaching out to swipe across his boyfriend’s nipple. Castiel let out the prettiest little moan at the sensation, so Dean did it again. And again. Pressing the sensitive nub before rolling it around. Cas’ arms tightened around him as he ground down on Dean’s lap. 

Dean was in heaven, moving against Castiel, chasing that high he knew would overload his senses with pleasure. Cas was right when he said they hadn’t been intimate in a while, and Dean didn’t blame him when he didn’t count their romp the day after Dean’s birthday. It had been a bit awkward and rushed. They didn’t do it because they wanted to, they did it because they felt obligated to, and it showed. This time, though, was full of passion and desire. Dean was sure he could make Cas come on his cock alone just like this, but he wanted to make it even sweeter. 

Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Cas’ middle, using his thighs to lift them up. Castiel held on for dear life, his shoulders hitting the wall above the headboard. Dean was quick to act, starting up a punishing pace. He thrust in and out of Cas, grunting as he tried to find that sweet spot inside of Castiel. 

When he did, Castiel could see stars. He let out a loud moan, his breath hitching and becoming more ragged by the second. Dean kept pounding in at that angle, Castiel powerless to stop him. Dean nuzzled into his neck and nipped at the sensitive skin. 

“You gonna come just like this, baby?” Dean asked, his thrusts getting deeper and more forceful. Castiel couldn’t string together a sentence if he tried. Instead, he forfeited himself over to the sensations, feeling that familiar tight heat coil in his belly. Dean could tell he was getting close, refusing to give up the pace for even a moment. 

“That’s right Cas. God, you’re perfect. Absolutely perfect. Come for me, Cas...fuck, come for me baby,” Dean growled. Castiel screwed his eyes shut as he let out a shout, coating Dean’s chest in thick strings of cum.

“Mm, Cas that’s fuckin’ hot. Coming on my cock alone. I make you feel that good, huh?” 

“Y-yes, Dean. Fuck you make me feel amazing,” Cas encouraged, clenching around Dean’s cock as he continued to pound into him, seeking his own release. With a few more swift thrusts, Dean was stalling his hips, spilling into Cas’ tight hole. 

Once he was done, he pulled out and gently maneuvered them so they could lie down on the bed and catch their breath. Castiel didn’t seem to mind the drying cum on Dean’s chest, choosing to cuddle up to his boyfriend. He gently kissed Dean’s neck and jaw. 

“That was great,” Cas whispered, tracing shapes into Dean’s chest. Dean nodded in agreement, not quite in control of his vocal chords just yet. They lay like that for a while, relishing in the afterglow. 

“Ok,” Dean said, “I’m sticky,” he announced, sitting up to head towards the bathroom. “Shower?” he asked. Castiel nodded and followed his boyfriend into the bathroom. 

Dean truly didn’t think he had it in him to go another round so soon, but when Castiel touched him like that, he couldn’t help but respond eagerly. He ended up fucking into Castiel against the shower wall from behind. It didn’t take too long for him to reach completion again, his cum dripping out of Castiel and being washed down the drain under the spray. He noticed Cas still pumping into his own hand, and reached around to do it for him. He bit down on Castiel’s shoulder as he watched his lover paint the shower wall.

They cleaned up properly after that and fell into bed. Dean scooted up behind Cas to be the big spoon. Cas hugged the arm Dean threw over him. 

“We better hope Balthazar doesn’t choose something like strip poker tomorrow. We’ll have some explaining to do,” Castiel said. Dean huffed a laugh and snuggled closer into Cas. 

“I love you,” Dean said softly. Castiel smiled in the dark. 

“I love you, too. Goodnight, Dean.” 

“Goodnight, Cas.”


End file.
